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COMTESSE DE MaRTEL. 



ChifFon’s Marriage 


[le Manage de Cbiffan\ 


BY 


GYP 

(COMTESSE DE MARTEL) 

Author of ** Lrurs Ames,’* “M.le Due,” “De HautbnBas,** 



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TRANSLATED BY 


MYRTIE LEONORA JONES. 

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NEW YORK 

LOVELL, CORYELL & COMPANY 

310-318 Sixth Avenue 


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^CHIFFON’S MARRinOE. 

9 


CHAPTER I. 

“ An officer’s wife ! What a life ! I would 
rather be ” — 

The Marquise de Bray shrugged her 
shoulders : — 

“When you know who the officer in ques- 
tion is ” — she said. 

“ Even though it were the much-sought- 
after M. de Trene, I should not want him.” 

“You would not want him, really? And 
yet you have no right to be so critical, 
for ” — 

“ ‘For your father left nothing but debts, 
and you have not a penny ’ ! Ah, how well I 
know that phrase ! you have repeated it so 
often that I cannot forget it. I am sick of 
it.” 

“ Well, then, what will you do ? ” 


1 


2 


CHIFFON’S MARRIAGE. 


“ Money or no money, I will not make a 
loveless marriage/^ 

^‘All the more,” said M. de Bray timidly, 
“because, although you are not rich, you 
have a dot.” 

“ A dot ? ” said the astonished girl. “ Do 
you give me one, then ? ” 

Her pale, tender gray eyes, smiling through 
dark lashes, which were remarkably long and 
thick, rested affectionately upon her step- 
father. 

Somewhat annoyed, Madame de Bray be- 
gan again dryly : “ It is useless to inform her 
of what she has no need of knowing, and 
thus make her still more difficult ” — 

“ Difficult in what way ?” exclaimed Coryse 
indignantly. “ What do you mean ? I was 
sixteen years old three months ago, and, as 
far as I know, no one has asked to marry 
me.” 

“Yes; some one has; and you refuse be- 
fore you even know who it is.” 

“ Because I do not wish to marry an officer, 
never; I have seen enough of them here, 
these officers’ wives. There is no lack of 
them in the four regiments. I would not be 
one of them; no, not for anything in the 


CHIFFON MARRIAGE. 


3 


world. I am not the right sort of person. I 
am not sufficiently polite. I feel that if my 
colonel had a wife like Madame de Bassigny, 
for example, nothing would induce me to call 
upon her ; nothing ! ” 

Turning as though to look for some sup- 
port, she asked : “ Am I not right. Uncle 
Marc ? ” 

Without giving Uncle Marc time to answer, 
Madame de Bray said emphatically : — 

“ This is not a matter which concerns your 
uncle ; will you listen to me for one moment } 
— yes or no 1 ” 

Then she continued very solemnly : — 

“The man who has done you the honor 
to ask your hand in marriage is the Due 
d’Aubibres ! ” 

She paused, expecting her daughter to be 
astonished. As a matter of fact Chiffon’s 
delicate little irregular face expressed com- 
plete amazement, which Madame de Bray 
took for joy. She asked triumphantly, “ Well, 
and what do you say to that ? ” 

''Well,” replied the little creature, trying 
to laugh, '' I am struck dumb ! ” 

Without noticing her mother’s threatening 
look, she went on quickly, “Yes, he must be 


4 


CHIFFON MARRIAGE. 


at least forty, M. d’Aubieres, because he is 
a colonel ; besides that, he is ugly ; and I hear 
on all sides that he has very little money. ” 

The Marquise cast a look of scorn upon 
her daughter, and said : — 

“ Ah, how interesting ! Even she demands 
money ! ” 

' Coryse shook her blond head. f 

“ Not at all ; money is nothing to me unless 
I have to be a duke — duchess I mean; but 
a big title with a small income is absurd ! I 
won’t say that if I had been born with a title, 

I should go and bury it in the cellar simply 
because I was not rich ; no, a title would be 
a great bore ; but I should endure it, because 
it would not be my fault. Besides, it is not 
merely because of his title that I say no.” 

“Is it because of his profession ? ” 

“Above all, it is because of himself.” 

“ But you have repeated a hundred times 
that M. d’Aubieres was charming, and that 
you were very fond of him.” 

“ Certainly, I like him very much ; but not 
to marry him ! In the first place he seems 
old to me ; and then if I had to spend all my 
time with him, it does not strike me that it 
would be very amusing.” 


CHIFFON'S MARRIAGE, 


5 


The marquise cast a glance which was full 
of vexation at her husband, and observed : — 
“ One does not marry merely to find amuse- 
ment.” 

“ I should. That is the only reason which 
would induce me to marry.” 

“ That child is crazy ! I prefer to leave 
her to herself ; ” and rising with a movement 
which she thought very high-bred, but which 
was really very ridiculous, the marquise 
stalked out of the room. 

When the door had closed again with a 
bang, M. de Bray said softly : — 

You are wrong, my little Coryse, to ” — 
Coryse, who in spite of the noisy exit of her 
mother, had remained quite calm, crouched 
in the back of an old armchair covered with 
faded silk, in which she almost disappeared 
from view, rose abruptly. 

“ Why do you call me ‘ Coryse ? ’ Are you 
angry too ? ” 

I am not angry at all, but ” — 

“Yes, you are angry; I see it plainly; but 
tell me what you were going to say when I 
interrupted you.” 

“ Nothing. I have forgotten.” 

“I know; you were saying, ‘You are wrong 
to ’ — What am I wrong about ? ” 


6 


CHIFFON MARRIAGE. 


“ To discuss as you have with your mother.’^ 
“ What ! must I let them marry me off in 
spite of myself ? ” 

“ I did not say that.” 

“ Well, what did you say ? ” 

“ I said that, without — without ” — 

“You see, you” — 

“ But” — 

“You are stuck; and I defy you to go on 
with your explanation. Yes ; I must either 
discuss and prevent this marriage, or keep 
still and permit it.” 

“ You might, in extremity, discuss it, but in 
a different tone ; above all things, in other 
terms ; your language exasperates your moth- 
er.” 

“ Yes ; I know she is fond of a lofty style.” 
Every trace of tenderness, and the look of 
infinite kindness that had been in the child’s 
eyes, disappeared ; and in a hard voice she 
added : — 

“ Her own manner is so distinguished ! ” 
“You give me a very great deal of trouble,” 
said M. de Bray sadly. 

“ What 1 I, who never meant to give you 
any ! I love you too well.” 

“ And you know that I love you.” 


CHIFFON MARRIAGE. 


1 


“ Then, why do you wish to send me away, 
to marry me off in spite of myself ? ” 

“ But I don’t wish it.” 

“Yes, you do ; and I am but sixteen and a 
half years old. I beg of you to leave me in 
peace ; let me live on here for ” — 

She stopped, and counted on her fingers : 
“ Five years longer, perhaps not quite so long 
as that, and then I will go. I promise you, I 
promise you.” 

The soft blue eyes grew dim ; and round 
tears, like balls of glass, fell without breaking 
upon her fresh cheeks. 

Corysande d’Avesnes, who was called Co- 
ryse, or more commonly Chiffon, was a solid 
but supple maid, much more of a baby than a 
young lady, with some of the angles and the 
awkwardness of childhood, and with the 
transparent skin which belongs to the very 
young ; that skin beneath which one can trace 
rosy lights. Her motions, although graceful 
and quick, were a little gauche, recalling those 
of an overgrown young dog ; and they annoyed 
her mother almost more than her not always 
correct manner of expressing herself. 

Very much in love with herself, the Marquise 
de Bray looked upon most of those with whom 


8 


CHIFFON'S MARRIAGE. 


social obligations compelled her to associate 
as poor inferior creatures, of no consequence, 
who ought to feel greatly honored by her con- 
descending to notice them. She had passed 
her life scorning and tormenting the good and 
simple people with whom she came in contact. 

First, Count d’ Avesnes, the father of Coryse, 
who had been clever enough to die at the end 
of two years, before he had been driven to 
make for himself elsewhere a life which was 
impossible for him at home. His widow, left 
without fortune, went with her daughter, and 
took up her abode with an uncle and aunt who 
adored the child, and did everything for her 
up to the time of her mother’s second mar- 
riage. As to Madame d’ Avesnes, she stayed 
very little with the de Launeys. She traveled, 
spending her time in Paris, or visiting friends 
here and there, unable, so she said, to accus- 
tom herself to a provincial life. 

It was in the course of one of these visits 
at Pont-sur-Sarthe that M. de Bray took a 
fancy to her. He was rich, and very charm- 
ing. Her beauty was ripe, and she knew that 
its freshness and brilliancy would soon be gone. 
So, instead of treating the marquis as she had 
many others, she quietly and cleverly led him 


CHIFFON MAklAGE. 9 


on to matrimony, resigning krself to a reign 
in Pont-sur-Sarthe, since shekould not shine 
elsewhere. She married M. d\ Bray, and gave 
out on all sides that she had Wmarried only 
out of devotion to her daughta and in order 
to assure her future. \ 

Then began for the poor husbbd the same 
fearful existence made up of cobplaints and 
sulkiness, of scenes and reconcilitions, which 
his predecessor had had to enduA. The de 
Launeys had borne everything outof love for 
their little Chilfon, from whom ab^e all else 
they dreaded to be separated. \ 

But it was for her daughter tha\ Madame 
de Bray reserved her worst tormetts. The 
child’s whole nature offended her idas, which, 
while narrow in many ways, were ospropor- 
tionately broad in others. Spoiled b\her love 
of the nobility, and of money too, ^ce she 
had had it, caring for pomp and parale above 
all things, she could never pardon C^se for 
a simplicity and frankness which werelbeyond 
her own comprehension. Not being ilturally 
of a very decided type, the marquise hadpreated 
one for herself from various and commmplace 
models. From the theater she had lealned to 
talk — from novels to think. And inimuch 


10 


CHWJON'S MARRIAGE. 


as she had at bottom no delicacy of feeling or 
sentiment, she nade bad use of What she did 
not thorough!’ understand ; and at times, as 
when she intended to be tragic, for example, 
the results w.re so intensely comic that Chif 
fon would gcoff into gales of laughter. 

Very ordhary herself in looks and carriage, 
Madame df Bray continually reproached her 
daughter vith being common, and with not pos- 
sessing thit distinction which was the natural 
7'ight of tk Avesnes. 

When le saw that Coryse, who almost never 
cried, wa> in tears, M. de Bray, quite upset, 
could thnk of nothing but how he might con- 
sole her. 

“ Cone, Chiffon, dearest, be reasonable,” he 
said; “t will all come out right.” 

She eplied with a discouraged shake of her 
dishevded head : — 

“ Yoi mean it will come outright if I marry 
M. d’i^’ubi^res ? I should ask nothing better, 
if I did not feel that in doing so I should do 
wrong and so make him unhappy. I should 
marry him at once, so that they might be rid 
of me That’s what they want.” 

“ It is cruel for you to say that to me.” 

“Ido not mean you ; you know that.” 


CHIfFOM^S MARRIa\ li 


“ But your mother has no morWesire than 
I have to see you go.” \ 

“ Don’t you believe it ; she thinl^f nothing 
else. She is afraid that I shall notte married, 
or, more likely, that I shall not mke a good 
match ; not bec^kCTse she wants me tele happy ; 
oh, no, that is a mere detail; but fcm pure 
vanity, that she may have the satis^tion of 
knowing that this one or that one is jVlous of 
her ; that she may dazzle the people li Pont- 
sur-Sarthe, and annoy her friends. 1 is for 
nothing else.” I 

“ I am grieved to hear you speak so your 
mother, Coryse.” \ 

“ I cannot help it ; I must say what I tnnk.” 
“Exactly, but you ought not to think feuch 
things.” \ 

“ And why should I not think them ? Why 
should I believe that she loves me ? Before 
you came to live with us, did she ever notice 
me except to scold me, or to scold those 
whom she accused of spoiling me ? If it had 
not been for my uncle and aunt, and later for 
you, should I ever have been cared for and 
petted ? She embraced me twice a year, when 
she left and when she returned from her 
travels. She always did it under the port- 


12 


CHIFFON’S MARRIAGE. 


cochere, ’wiere I was clinging to my nurse’s 
skirts, an( trembling because of her return to 
the house which was so calm when she was 
not there With what emotion she would cry, 
‘ My Ccysande, my precious child ! ’ One 
might h;ve taken it for a scene from a play, 
where tiey had found me at the bottom of a 
cavern and brought me back to earth. She 
would ;lasp me so tight to her breast that I 
would lose my breath ; all this was for the 
benefit of the servants and the driver of the 
omnilus, who was unloading the luggage ; but 
as they knew her well, she could not take 
then? in. But that made no difference ; they 
had this little melodrama offered them with 
greit regularity just the same.” 

Gpwing serious again, the child concluded 
aifii^bly : — 

/‘/She has always lacked simplicity; you 
l/npw that.” 

You exaggerate her imperfections.” 

“ Exaggerate, I ? You cannot believe what 
you say, you who never pose, who trouble 
yourself so little about the effect you are pro- 
ducing.” 

“You enjoy opposing your mamma in all 
sorts of little nothings.” 


CHIFFON’S MARRIAGE. 


13 


^‘‘Your mamma!’ Take care; she will 
hear you ! ” 

And as M. de Bray glanced toward the door, 
she cried, “ You are afraid, aren’t you ? ” 

Then in a solemn tone she added : “ To 
have forgotten that ‘ mamma ’ is a word of the 
common people, a word one should leave to 
servants 1 Well-born people express them- 
selves differently ! ” 

“ Since it is her weakness to insist upon 
this, why not satisfy her ? ” 

“ I do satisfy her, indeed I do ! Y^en I 
speak to her, I don’t call her anything; I 
evade it ; but in speaking of her, I say ‘ my 
mother.’ It fills my mouth full, but not my 
h.eart 1 Ah ! it is not my fault ; I have tried 
more than ever since you have taken poor 
papa’s place. You have been so good to the 
ugly little savage who did not want to see you 
at all at first ; but since I have known you I 
have loved you very dearly, and I should have 
been glad to love your wife. But, indeed, I 
could not.” 

“ What you say is terrible.” 

“Why is it? I am very properly fond of 
her. I should be sorry if anything happened 
to her, and I wish her only happiness ; but 


CHIFFON MARRIAGE. 


H 


when I don’t see her I breathe easier ; that is 
sure.” 

Noticing her step-father’s look, she went 
on : — 

“ But, you know, all this that I have told 
you, I have not breathed to another soul.” 

“ It is well,” stammered the poor man, in 
consternation. 

“ It is a fact ; I have no confidence in any 
one but you.” 

She glanced over her shoulder at Count de 
Bray, who was sitting quite silent in a bamboo 
easy-chair and added : — 

“ And in Uncle Marc too ; why don’t you 
say something, Marc?” 

Uncle Marc, a tall, fine-looking young man, 
replied in resonant tones : — 

“ Because I have nothing to say. A while 
ago when I spoke, your mother shut me up ; 
consequently ” — 

“ I know she did ; but now that she is no 
longer here ” — 

“ Since she left us you have said some very 
true things, my poor girl ; and as I cannot 
explain them, I preserve a discreet silence.” 

“You are good too ” she said. 

“ Oh, excellent ! But let me alone, foolish 


CHIFFON'S MARRIAGE. 


15 


child,” he added, rising, and suddenly pushing 
Coryse, who had climbed on his knees like a 
big baby, onto the floor. 

“Why do you push me like that?” she 
asked in surprise. 

“ Because you are too big for such monkey 
tricks. At your age do you think it good 
manners ? ” 

“ Manners ! what has manners to do with it? 
Can’t I climb on my uncle’s lap any more ? ” 

Then with a comical little air of reserve, 
she said : “ If you were not my uncle ” — 

“ That’s the point,” answered Marc gruffly ; 
“ that’s the point ; I am not your uncle.” 

Throwing herself down, she burst into sobs, 
her face buried in the cushions of the divan. 

“ What’s the matter with the child to-day ? ” 
inquired Uncle Marc, annoyed. “ She who 
usually does not cry easily bursts into tears 
at the slightest thing. It is unbearable.” 

“ Do not be too harsh,” rejoined M. De 
Bray; “she is nervous over the matter of this 
marriage.” 

“ I can understand that ” — 

“ Take care that she does not hear you ; she 
would send Aubibres to the devil for good 
and all.” 


i6 


CHIFFON MARRIAGE. 


^‘Well, you are not going to permit this 
monstrosity, I hope ? ” 

“ Her mother is determined upon it.” 

“ She is crazy. Aubieres is twenty-five 
years older than Chiffon.” 

“ If I can believe what I hear, the little 
Liron adores you ; and she is at least twenty 
years younger than you are.” 

“Admitting that that is so, she adores me 
to-day ; but how will it be to-morrow .? ” 

“ I may mention also the example of our 
mother, who was twenty-five years younger 
than her husband, and who loved him passion- 
ately always.” 

“And I reply that these are examples which 
one finds only in one’s own family, fortu- 
nately. In the meantime poor Chiffon is cry- 
ing as if she would break her heart.” He 
went to the couch, and, laying his hand on 
the back of her rosy neck, said affection- 
ately : — 

“ I beg your pardon. Chiffon, dear, for hav- 
ing caused you pain.” 

She raised her disheveled head, and asked : 

“ Why were you so horrid ? Why did you 
tell me that you were not my uncle ? ” 

“ Because, although I love you just as much 


CHIFFON’S MARRIAGE. 


17 


as if I were, I am not ! I am the brother of 
your mother’s husband ; and I am nothing to 
you. I could even marry you if I were not a 
contemporary of my friend d’Aubieres whom 
you are so prompt to dismiss.” 

“ What ! ” asked the child in astonishment, 
you the age of M. d’Aubieres ? ” 

And she added, laughing : — 

But you are not so ‘ gone to pieces ’ as he, 
as the people say in Pont-sur-Sarthe. Yes, 
the other day I was talking in the street with 
an old man who used that very expression to 
explain to me that his wife’s health was some- 
what broken.” 

’ “ You were talking in the street with an old 
man What old man ? ” 

“ An old man whom I met on my way back 
from my class the other day. Jean was with 
me. I think he was a crossing-sweeper or a 
rag-man.” 

“ If your mother had seen you talking with 
this man, what would have happened ? ” 

“She would have been wild, I know; but 
she did not see me.” 

Then, turning abruptly to Uncle Marc, she 
said : — 

“Well, anyway, whether you are really my 


i8 


CHIFFON’S MARRIAGE. 


uncle or not, for five years I have called you 
my uncle, and believed that you were, just as 
I have believed, without going very deep into 
it, that papa was papa. In any case you can 
give me your advice, can you not ? Shall I, or 
shall I not, marry M. d’Aubieres 1 ” 

“Your question is embarrassing.” 

“ If you were in my place, what would you 
do?” 

“ In your place — Gad ! — I would examine 
myself ” — 

“ It is just because I have done so, that ” — 

“ Before saying ‘ no ’ I would see d’Aubibres 
a few times ; I would reflect.” 

“You think, then, that if I saw him often I 
might change my mind ? To me it seems just 
the other way.” 

“Aubieres is clever; he is kind and well- 
bred ; he must improve on acquaintance. With- 
out being rich, he has a comfortable fortune 
and an historic name. 

“ Oh, ye gods ! I know that he is historic ; I 
have been told so often enough. They go on 
enough about it. As for historic names, I have 
one myself, and you know one is not apt to 
nab at the things one already has ; it is the 
things one has not, that one demands,” 


CHIFFON’S MARRIAGE. 


19 


“ What do you demand ? ” 

She reflected a moment, and then said 
resolutely : — 

“ A great deal of love, or, if that is asking 
too much, a very great deal of money, so that 
there need be no more poor people in Pont- 
sur-Sarthe. Then I should buy pictures and 
fine horses ; and I should have a concert every 
evening ; and it would never be boresome at 
my house ” — 

“ That word ‘ boresome ’ again. What if 
your mother should hear you ? ” 

“ Yes ; but she does not ! ’’ 

A servant opened the door and an- 
* nounced : — 

“ Madame la Marquise wishes to speak to 
M. le Marquis and to M. le Comte before 
dinner ; and she begs that Mademoiselle will 
go and dress.” 

‘‘ Dress ! Is any one to be here ? ” cried 
Coryse in astonishment, turning with a laugh 
to her stepfather and her uncle : — 

“ It must be M. d’Aubieres, and she wants 
to give you some pointers. Trot along, and I 
will go and put on my old pink gown. It is 
more soiled, and not so pretty as this ; but it is 
an evening gown.” 


20 


CHIFFON'S MARRIAGE. 


Looking at M. de Bray, who went out fol- 
lowed by his brother, she murmured, her eyes 
big with tears all ready to fall : — 

“It is a shame that the only two beings 
who love me do not belong to me in any way.” 

Then, as her stepfather turned to answer, 
she added quickly : — 

“ Not the only two. It was not nice of me 
to say that. I forgot Uncle Albert and Aunt 
Mathilde, who love me dearly, and who are 
really related to me.” 

Then, seized with a sudden idea, she darted 
from the room, slipping under M. de Bray’s arm 
as he stood holding the door open for her. 

“ I had quite forgotten,” she said, laughing ; 
“ I am to dine with them this evening.” 

She raised her voice, and continued with 
emphasis : — 

“You will tell ‘ my mother,’ if she has for- 
gotten it.” And she tripped down the stairs. 


CHIFFON’S MARRIAGE. 


21 


CHAPTER II. 

Chiffon had rushed to her room, clapped a 
hat on her blond head, and entered the ser- 
vants’ room like a bomb, where she seized upon 
old Jean, who started forth with her, complain- 
ing that his cotton gloves were too small for 
his big hands. 

Come, quick ! take me to Aunt Ma- 
thilde’s.’’ 

“ But, Mademoiselle, you forget. We have 
people coming to dinner, and I have to go to 
the door. They may arrive at any moment.” 

You have plenty of time ; you can be back 
immediately ; we will run.” 

“ Oh, we will run, will we .? ” muttered the 
old coachman. “ In this heat it will be pleas- 
ant to run ! ” 

He finished putting on his gloves, spreading 
his fingers wide apart, and working them in 
with an awkward, regular movement. Coryse 
took him by the arm, and shook him. 

Then she said, “ Come, hurry up, or I shall 
get a scolding.” 


22 


CHIFFON'S MARRIAGE. 


The old man stood with his fingers apart 
like the spokes of a wheel, and said in aston- 
ishment: “A scolding! have you not had per- 
mission to go ? ” 

“ I have, and I haven’t. Come, come.” 

“ I believe you are fooling me ; that you 
really have it.” 

“Yes, I have, from papa.” 

“That is as bad as though you did not have 
it at all. Permissions from M. le Marquis are 
Jpiike his orders ; he might as well keep still.” 

As they crossed the dining-room she ex- 
claimed as she saw the table, “ Are there to 
be several guests for dinner ? I thought there 
was only M. d’Aubibres. Stop, Jean, where 
are you going ? ” 

“To get my hat which hangs in the harness- 
room. I will catch up with you.” 

He rejoined Coryse, who was scampering 
across the court, and began to walk a few 
steps behind her. Suddenly she turned around 
saying : — 

“ You know M. d’Aubibres ; what do you 
think of him ? ” 

“ I think he is a fine officer.” 

“Well, Jean, they want me to marry him.” 

“ Impossible I ” said the old coachman, with 


CHIFFON MARRIAGE. 


23 


such palpable dismay that the child began to 
laugh as she looked at him. 

“ Oh, impossible ! he might be your father.” 

“ True ; but they wish it all the same ; at 
least, Madame la Marquise does.” 

“ It is because he has a grand name, ‘ M. le 
due d’Aubibres ! ’ ” said the old man, who 
knew the tastes of his mistress. 

“Come along beside me,” ordered Coryse, 
who found it awkward to turn as she walked ; 
“ you’ll give me a stiff neck.” 

“I must not walk beside you. Mademoi- 
selle ; the Marquise has expressly forbidden 
it. ‘ In the street,’ she says, ‘ the servants 
must walk five steps behind Mademoiselle 
when they accompany her.’ ” 

“ The others ; not you. You are more like 
a nurse. She could not lay down such rules 
for you ; here we are ! ” 

Jean looked at the old granite mansion 
which loomed opposite them on the Place du 
Palais, a dull gray silhouette, and muttered 
with a deep sigh : — 

“ That’s a fine house, where we were well off, 
with a good master and a good mistress. Not 
that I would say a word against M. le Marquis, 
jio one is better than he ; but he can’t often 


24 


CHIFFON’S MARRIAGE. 


do as he likes ; while M. and Madame de 
Launey both do as they like, but it’s always 
what the other likes.” 

“ Do you regret that you ever left them ? ” 

“ I don’t regret it, for I left them to be with 
you, and I am with you; but when you are 
married to M. le due d’Aubieres, or to some 
one else, I shall not stay long with Madame 
la Marquise. 

“ I am wrong to complain to you,” he said, 
as Chiffon made no reply, “ because, of course, 
she is your mamma, and because you are more 
to be pitied than I, for I can leave if I want 
to, and you can’t.” 

After a pause, the old man, following out 
his train of thought, asked : — 

“ Do you think they’ll take me back, M. 
and Madame de Launey ? They know I only 
left to be with you. Mademoiselle ; and since I 
left them their horses have never been so fine, 
or so fat, or so shiny.” 

“But you know very well, Jean, that you 
will stay with me always ; that when I go, I 
shall take you with me.” 

With eyes filled with tears the old coach- 
man leaned towards her, touched, but happy. 

“ What, you would still keep in your service 


CHIFFON’S MARRIAGE. 


25 


an old man like me, not good-looking, not 
stylish ? ” 

“Yes; I like you as you are, dear old 
nurse ; but it’s true, nevertheless, you are not 
pretty.” 

Letting fall the knocker, she cried : — 

“ Run along while I wait ; you have barely 
time ; ” and laughing without noticing the ter- 
rified look on the poor man’s face, she said : — 

“You may not be very well received when 
you get back, you know.” 

Chiffon’s appearance in the de Launeys’ 
dining-room was a real event. They were 
just sitting down to dinner. Aunt Mathilde 
and Uncle Albert both rose with a cry of d3- 
light; and even the servant gave a growl of 
satisfaction. 

For every one adored Chiffon in the old 
house where her early childhood had been 
passed, and to which she returned with such 
delight whenever she could escape. 

She was ten years old when her mother, at 
her second marriage, took her away from the 
two old people who had come to feel that she 
was really their own. It was a terrible trial 
for them, — terrible also for the child, who was 
afraid of the future. 


26 


CHIFFON'S MARRIAGE. 


Scolded and tormented by her mother from 
the time of her earliest remembrance, cared 
for and petted by her old uncle and aunt 
since she had first known them, then buffeted 
and cajoled during the short stays of Madame 
d’Avesnes at Pont-sur-Sarthe, Coryse, whose 
temperament was naturally gay, although easily 
affected by her surroundings, lived in a state 
of perpetual uneasiness. When quite a small 
child she began to think, as she sat in her 
own little chair under the steady gaze of the 
family portraits in corselet and armor, and 
between the two old people who never tired 
of gazing upon her curly head, that it was 
good to be alive and to laugh, to roll on the 
carpet of the big dining-room, or on the grass 
in the mournful old garden, which to her was 
full of sunshine and delight. She thought it 
was amusing to talk with the dogs, the horses, 
the birds, the playthings, and the flowers. But 
all this would not last. Some day — to-morrow, 
perhaps, toward evening — the big gate at the 
entrance would open, a carriage whose rum- 
bling she knew full well would enter, and 
Uncle Albert, bending toward her from his 
great height, would say with some embarrass- 
ment as he kissed her ; — 


CHIFFON’S MARRIAGE. 


27 


“ Chiffon, my child, your mother is coming ; 
you must go down to meet her with Claudine/’ 

They never forewarned her of the return of 
Madame d’Avfesnes. Her uncle and aunt had 
noticed that if they told her, she could neither 
sleep nor eat. She would have frequent cry- 
ing spells, but would put on a brave face at 
the last moment, resigned to what had to be. 
And then, obedient to her uncle, she would 
take in her little hand a corner of Claudine’s 
apron, and go down with dry eyes and with 
scarcely a turn of her lip, while Claudine, 
deeply moved, would say to her in her big, 
encouraging voice : — 

“ Come, Chiffon, be a good girl.” 

Then she would answer, in a frightened 
voice that she could even then recall: “You 
must be sure to call me ‘ Mademoiselle ; ’ you 
know' she wants you to; remember, now, won’t 
you ? ” 

While there was no doubt that the scenes 
and scoldings which were showered upon her 
irritated Coryse, she did not mind them so 
much as the scenes and scoldings which others 
had to endure. 

The sight of Aunt Mathilde crying in her 
room, or of a discharged servant dragging his 


CHIFFON'S MARRMGE. 


2S 


trunk down the stairs, was enough to make 
her teeth chatter, and to keep her eyes wide 
open the whole night long. All these things 
were brought to mind by the sound of the 
big carriage, whose rumbling she seemed 
always to hear, even at her play; and she saw 
its outline, with its pile of luggage on top, 
even when she was gazing upon the things 
she loved the best — the water, the fire, and 
the flowers. 

For years Chiffon had lived, happy but pre- 
occupied, unable to forget, in the course of 
eight or ten months of quiet, certain days of 
wretchedness past and to come ; bending in 
advance her strong and supple back in ex- 
pectation of the shock which she foresaw. 

She received the announcement of the 
mother’s marriage with great indifference, until 
she learned that she would have to leave the 
old house where she had grown up and the 
aged relatives who had watched over her so 
tenderly. She knew the Marquis de Bray by 
sight. She had often seen him riding by-with 
his brother Marc, and she had always thought 
him very “ chic ” and very nice. But when 
she learned that he was to marry her mother, 
she decided that he must be like her ; and it 


CHIFFON’S MARRIAGE. 2^ 


seemed to her that her judgment-day had 
come. However, she could control herself 
when she felt that it was necessary; so she did 
not show her fears, but was satisfied with pro- 
testing silently. To Madame d’Avesnes, who 
announced to her in high-sounding phrases 
that it was purely from maternal love and in 
the interests of her future that she was marry- 
ing again, she did not say a word. And when 
they were looking for her to present her to 
M. de Bray, who had come to call at the 
Launeys’, she went to hide in a clump of 
hydrangeas at the back of the garden where 
they could not find her. 

At the wedding in the gloomy cathedral she 
was pale, her mouth was drawn, her eyes fixed ; 
she understood vaguely that she was giving up 
the last of the poor father whom she had never 
known, and who might, perhaps, have loved 
her. And so it was with sorrow and bitterness 
in her heart that the child came into her new 
home. 

M. de Bray from the first grew fond of Chif- 
fon. Divining her feelings, he did not attempt 
to anticipate the time which should bring them 
together ; and it was because of his wife’s un- 
reasonable character that he and Chiffon finally 


CHIFFON MARRIAGE. 


30 


came to understand each other. Worn out with 
the storms, the tears, and the bursts of temper 
of the marquise, these two beings, both so 
cheerful and so good, clung instinctively to 
one another for support. 

Almost without knowing it, they made op- 
portunities to be together, and before long it 
came to pass that Chiffon was contented and 
happy only when her stepfather was with 
her. 

The child had always tried to conceal her 
fear of her mother. At the sound of her voice 
in anger, she affected an irritating composure, 
and lifted her nose impertinently, even though 
she felt her teeth chattering, and her limbs 
trembling at the same time. But one night 
she betrayed herself. Madame de Bray, in a 
rage, pursued her across the hall. She clutched 
the balustrade, and sliding down it dashed into 
the library. There, thinking herself alone, she 
threw herself against the door, breathless and 
in terror, and listened to hear if her mother 
were in pursuit. 

Marc de Bray, who lived with his brother, 
was sitting smoking in a big easy-chair at 
some distance from the lamp. He called the 
child softly. She turned round, sorry to be 


CHIFFON MHRRIAGE. 


31 


surprised at a moment of weakness and 
abandon. 

‘‘ What ! ” she cried, “ are you here, you ? ” 

“ Yes, indeed. Mademoiselle Corysande,” 
Marc answered somewhat jocosely ; “ I am 
here ; do I disturb you ? ” 

Chiffon never told a lie. She came toward 
him, and said crossly, “ Yes, you do. You 
have seen me afraid, and I don’t like it.” 

He laughed, and looking at her affection- 
ately said : — 

‘‘You are a dear girl. If you were afraid 
of ghosts or of a cannon, I should tell you that 
it was beneath you as a descendant of the 
Avesnes. But of your mother ! My poor child, 
I am afraid of her myself, old as I am ; so you 
see I can understand you.” 

“What!” murmured Coryse, gaining confi- 
dence, “ you too ? You don’t show it.” 

“ I don’t show it when she is here ; that 
would please her too much ; but I pay up for 
it later, and I fairly shake in my boots. This 
morning at breakfast when she caught poor 
Joseph I tried to keep still, to contain myself, 
but my throat contracted on a prune, and you 
saw how I fled, glad of an excuse, and went 
and choked in peace in the hall.” 


32 


CHIFFON MARRUGE. 


Then, growing serious, he continued : — 

“ Chiffon, you ought to tell my brother about 
these things. You ought to confess to him 
frankly your fears and your sorrows.” 

“ What could he do ” she replied indiffer- 
ently. 

“ Gad ! he is the master, after all.” Chif- 
fon’s eyes opened wide. 

He .? Impossible.” 

Marc de Bray laughed heartily. 

*‘I know it does not seem so. Your step- 
father has a horror of scenes and disputes. 
He prefers to give up in matters which con- 
cern only himself ; but in what concerns you 
it is another matter, for the sake of your father, 
whose friend he was, and for your own sake 
too ; for he is very fond of you, very. And I 
am too ; I love you dearly. Chiffon ; and if we 
have never talked much of this affection, it is 
because it is not easy to approach a little 
porcupine like you.” 

Just then his brother came in, and he said 
to him : — 

“ Come, Pierre, tell Chiffon that we are her 
friends, and I have an idea that to-night she 
will believe you.” 

From that day a great affection grew in the 


CHIFFON *S MARRIAGE. 


33 


lonely heart of the child, and she lived more 
contentedly. 

How did you happen to come to-night, 
Chiffon ? ” asked Uncle Albert delightedly. 
“ I thought you had company to dinner.” 

She shut one eye with the droll grimace of 
a street urchin. 

“ M. d’Aubieres, eh ? ” she said, jumping 
rough-shod right into the question. Then, with- 
out giving them time to answer, she said : — 

“In my place, tell me, would you marry M. 
d’Aubieres ” 

“ Why, Chiffon ! ” stammered Aunt Mathilde 
timidly, indicating by a glance the servant 
who was bringing in some dish to the table. 

“ Bah ! what’s the difference ? M. d’Au- 
bieres must have made his offer about four 
o’clock ; they told me of it at five ; this evening 
part of the town will know it, and to-morrow 
my mother will inform the rest. It sounds 
well ; that’s the way they do things in Pont-sur 
Sarthe. They say it has eighty thousand in- 
habitants, but that does not prevent a rumor 
making the rounds with astonishing rapidity. 
You knew, didn’t you, that M. d’Aubi^res 
wanted to marry me ? ” 


34 


CHIFFON MARRIAGE. 


“We knew it from your mother,” said M. 
de Launey. “ She came to tell us, and to invite 
us to your house this evening.” 

“ Exactly ; they want to present him to the 
family, and to force me to say ‘ yes.’ ” 

“ But there is no need of presenting him to 
us,” protested her aunt; “ we have known him 
ever since he came to the garrison, and that 
was a long while ago.” 

“ It is about a year. The first time Uncle 
Marc brought him to dinner, he sat next to 
me. I was still in short dresses. He talked 
to me constantly of hunting and of paper- 
chases. Oh ! but that dinner was boresome 
to me ! ” 

“Chiffon!” said Madame de Launey in a 
tone of reproof, “ that horrid word again.” 

She was astonished. 

“ Horrid word ; which one ? Oh, is it ‘ bore- 
some ’ that you call a horrid word ? are you 
as particular as that, Aunt Mathilde "I ” 

“ You are not particular enough. Your 
mother is right when she complains of your 
manners and bad language ; yes, you have 
the manners of a boy, and you talk like the 
children in the street.” 

“ Quite likely. They were the only ones 


CHIFFON'S MARRIAGE. 


35 


that I cared to listen to when I was little. It 
is not my fault that I could never find a word 
to say to my cousins the de Lussy girls, or to 
the ‘general’s little daughters’ as Claudine 
used to call them. They used to come to lun- 
cheon with me, all dressed up in silk gowns, 
and with their hair curled on an iron. In vain 
I racked my brain ; I sat with folded arms 
opposite them, laughing stupidly, feeling how 
ridiculous I was, but unable to do anything. 
Theirs was the language I had been taught 
to speak, but I could hardly understand them ; 
they made their liaisons ; and there is nothing 
that troubles me like that — it’s so funny. It 
seems as though one were at a play. Don’t 
you think so? Uncle Albert, do you see my 
point ? ” 

“ Yes, yes, I see your point ; but don’t talk 
so much, and eat your dinner; it will get 
cold.” 

“ It would be good just the same ; beef is so 
good. Another thing we never have at our 
house.” 

“ I believe your mother does not like it.” 

“ She likes it well enough ; it’s not that ; 
but she does not wish to have it served at her 
table. She says it is common ; and anything 


36 


CHIFFON'S MARRIAGE. 


that is common, whether it is a dish or some- 
thing else ” — 

“ Yes, beef is good — eat some/^ 

“ In the meantime you have not yet given 
me the advice I asked for.” 

“Why should I ? ” 

“ For the sake of M. d’Aubibres.” 

“ But in a case of this kind, my dear child, 
you should take counsel only with yourself. 
M. d’Aubieres pleases your mother ; it is now 
for you to see whether he pleases you.” 

“ He pleases me ; yes, he certainly pleases 
me, as far as I know him ; but I have never 
looked upon him from that point of view, and 
I am positive that as soon as I begin to do so, 
I shall ” — 

Aunt Mathilde interposed ; — 

“ You must see him again ; see him often ; 
because he comes frequently to your house. 
Study him well, and when you have done 
so ” — 

“What shall I do then, after I have stud- 
ied him well ? ” 

“You will find out what answer you wish 
to give him.” 

“I shall reply, ‘Zut.’"' 

“Zut?” 


CHIFFON MARRIAGE. 


37 


Chiffon began to laugh. 

“It is awfully funny, Aunt Mathilde, to 
hear you say ‘ Zut.’ You don’t put any mean- 
ing in it at all.” 

“ No meaning ?” 

“ No ; ‘ zut ’ is a word which means ‘ come 
off,’ ‘ run along,’ or something like that ; so 
you must say it more deliberately, don’t you 
see ? ” 

“ Do you imagine that at my age I ought 
to learn how to talk slang ? ” 

“ I should like to hear you. You don’t 
usually stick at a thing like that. Aunt Ma- 
thilde ; and you often do use expressions quite 
equal to ‘boresome,’ let it be said without 
reproach.” 

“ I am sorry if I do.” 

“ Not at all ; it is at such times that I am 
most fond of you ; and, do you know, that is 
one thing I like about M. d’Aubieres, he has 
no airs. I am quite sure that my way of talk- 
ing would not shock him the least in the 
world.” 

“ What is your father’s opinion about this 
marriage ; and your uncle’s 1 ” 

“ Papa does not say much ; he is satisfied 
with praising M. d’Aubi^res. As for Uncle 


38 


CHIFFON MARRIAGE. 


Marc, he tells me to examine myself ; and 
then when he thought that I was not listening 
because I was crying in a corner ” — 

Both uncle and aunt interrupted anx- 
iously : — 

You were crying ? ” 

“ Put yourself in my place if you think it is 
funny. Besides, I was not crying about that. 
It was about something else. Well, when 
they thought I was not listening, they were 
counting up the people of their acquaintance 
who adored each other in spite of twenty or 
twenty-five years difference in their ages.” 

“ Did they mention us ? ” 

‘‘ No.” 

“Well, Chiffon, I was eighty-one years old 
yesterday; your aunt is only sixty.” 

“ Is that so ? And yet you appear to get 
on very well,” replied Chiffon, who was hang- 
ing on the arm of her old uncle on the way to 
the drawing-room. 

“I have ordered the carriage at half-past 
eight o’clock,” said Madame de Launey; “I 
am going to get ready.” 

“ The carriage, in this weather, to go only a 
few rods ! ” 

Then, suddenly enlightened, she said: — 


CHIFFON'S MARRIAGE. 


39 


“ That was not your own idea ; I will wager 
that it was not ! ” 

“ No ; it was your mother who ” — 

“Who told you to come in your carriage 
because you have fine horses ; then, as every- 
body goes at about the same time, you would 
attract attention. It is to impress M. d’Au- 
bibres. Oh, tra-la-la ; always the same old 
story.’’ 

While the Launeys were preparing to go 
out, Chiffon, seated in a rocking-chair, gazed 
fondly upon the sumptuous drawing-room 
where she had played so often in other days. 
She loved the old Empire furniture, with the 
gilt sphynxes, and its covering of Utrecht 
velvet with canary yellow stripes ; and its 
little low cupboards concealed by the white 
wainscoting where she had been allowed to 
keep her playthings. And then the beautiful 
Louis XV. screen, so smiling and perfect, with 
its satyrs and lymphs chasing each other 
through thickets ! Then there was the old 
clock with eagles, and the Sevres vases, 
charming but tiresome. 

Chiffon lived over again her happy child- 
hood hours ; and it was with an air of convic- 
tion that she said to the old people when they 
called her : — 


40 


CHIFFON MHRRIAGE. 


“ It is terribly nice here.” 

When they reached the Bray mansion, she 
ran up the stairs ahead of her uncle and aunt, 
calling to them : — 

“ Say that I am coming. I must dress. I 
should be caught if I came in with you ; and 
I am going to present myself in my old pink 
gown.” 


CHIFFON'S MARRIAGE. 


41 


CHAPTER III. 

When she slipped into the brightly lighted 
drawing-room, Coryse stopped in the manner 
peculiar to near-sighted persons, to examine 
the company, who, seated in a wide circle, 
were talking and laughing. She hesitated a 
moment as though in doubt as to whom she 
ought to speak first. Then she went up to 
an elderly lady with a clear-cut profile, and 
greeted her in a way which, in comparison 
with her ordinary manner, seemed very re- 
spectful. Coryse liked the Countess de Jar- 
ville for many reasons. She thought her 
distinguished in spite of her modest ways, and 
she believed her to be really good and intel- 
ligent. Moreover, Madame de Bray could 
not abide the old lady, a distant relative of 
her husband, who, with her faded gowns and 
her resemblance to a pale old portrait, per- 
sisted in casting a gloom upon her receptions. 
This dislike in itself would have sufficed to 
create in Chiffon a certain sympathy for the 
countess. 


42 


CHIFFON MARRIAGE. 


Corysande,’^ said the marquise in a curt 
tone, “ come and say good-evening to Madame 
de Bassigny.” 

Madame de Bassigny was the wife of a 
colonel and Chiffon’s bete noir. Very rich and 
very affected, she delighted in tormenting and 
annoying all the officers’ families in Pont-sur- 
Sarthe; and she punished severely all the 
bachelor officers who neglected her reception 
day. 

Coryse turned, and answered with an indif- 
ference which bordered upon impertinence. 

In a moment, as soon as I have spoken to 
Madame de Jarville.” 

The marquise cast a furious look at her 
daughter ; and M. d’ Aubibres’ kind blue eyes, 
filled with admiration and pleasure, were also 
fixed upon her. He, too, detested the wife of 
his colleague in the hussars, and he was de- 
lighted with the utter lack of enthusiasm 
which Chiffon so deliberately put into her 
manner. 

This thin, scrawny woman, who had, as he 
said, a beak for an elbow and a bone for a 
back, ugly as sin, loquacious as a magpie, 
and as full of gossip as a concierge., who slan- 
dered pretty women, and made fun of poor 


CHIFFON’S MARRIAGE. 


43 


and ugly ones, was his particular abomina- 
tion. 

Too frank to conceal this antipathy en- 
tirely, M. d’Aubibres confined himself to the 
simplest forms of politeness. 

At first Madame de Bassigny had been ex- 
tremely agreeable to him, as she was anxious 
to attract this good-looking bachelor who bore 
so great a name. Her fondest wish was to 
have the most elegant and the most popular 
receptions in Pont-sur-Sarthe ; and she saw at 
once that the presence of the Due d’Aubieres 
was indispensable in establishing their su- 
premacy. A duke in almost any environment 
is something of a lion ; but in the provinces 
he becomes a great one. 

As soon as Colonel d’Aubieres had arrived, 
people said, “ He is doubtless a duke of the 
Empire ; ” and they looked upon him with curi- 
osity. But when they learned that the title of 
the Aubieres dated from before the revision 
of 1667, curiosity became admiration. And as 
the duke with his little fortune made a very 
good appearance ; as he had good horses 
which he rode well, a well-appointed carriage, 
and a small house all to himself, which was 
filled, so they said, with nice things, he was 


44 


CHIFFON'S M/IRRIAGE. 


greatly sought after by all the mothers, wid- 
ows, and cocottes of Pont-sur-Sarthe. But in 
spite of the attentions heaped upon him by 
Colonel and Madame de Bassigny, he contin- 
ued to be formal and reserved, contenting 
himself with being polite to them and nothing 
more. Madame de Bray, more fortunate than 
her friend, had the pleasure of producing the 
Due d’Aubi^res at her receptions. He was 
very intimate with her step-brother, Marc, 
who introduced him without the fear that she 
would receive with her habitual disdain a per- 
sonage so distinguished. 

Although all the prettiest women of the 
place paid court to him, including Madame de 
Bray herself, who, though no longer young, 
was still attractive, the duke himself neither 
sought nor saw any one but the slender, vigor- 
ous girl, who, something of a dreamer and 
something of a tomboy, laughed with him in 
affectionate confidence, quite unmindful of the 
“ swell ” young men who adorned her mother’s 
salon. He guessed at some of the petty an- 
noyances of Chiffon’s life ; Uncle Marc told 
him the rest ; and all unconsciously, at the age 
of forty-three, he began to love the fifteen-year- 
old child who laughed so merrily with him. 


CHIFFON MARRIAGE. 


45 


When M. d’Aubieres became aware of what 
was going on in his still youthful heart, he 
thought, I am a fool.” Then, whilst dream- 
ing of this marriage, which seemed at first so 
impossible, he came at last to ask himself, 
“Why not?” 

And this evening the poor man, timid and 
distressed, sought Chiffon’s eye in order to 
read in it the expression which had been pro- 
duced by his offer, which seemed to him in 
his great modesty presumptuous and absurd. 
But Chiffon steadily avoided looking at him. 
After having bowed formally to Madame de 
Bassigny she began to talk with a poor, frail- 
looking young man, with a retreating fore- 
head and chin, the Vicomte de Barfleur, a 
descendant of one of the oldest families of 
the country, and one of the eligible men of 
Pont-sur-Sarthe. Although to judge from the 
somewhat bored and distracted manner of the 
girl, their conversation seemed quite devoid of 
interest, M. d’Aubieres, irritated to see her 
talking to any one, took a violent dislike to 
the innocent person, who was not in the least 
to blame. 

Suddenly Genevieve de Lussy, a tall, hand- 
some girl, and a cousin of the Avbsnes, ex- 
claimed : — 


46 


CHIFFON M^RRMGE. 


“ Chiffon, why did you not come to the 
reading to-day ? ” 

What,” said Madame de Bray, aston- 
ished, ‘‘what do you mean, did she not go 
at all ? ” 

Coryse blushed, and suddenly left little 
Barfleur. Stepping up to her mother, she 
said : — 

“No, I did not go ; I stayed in the gar- 
den.” 

Then turning to M. de Bray with a sup- 
plicating look, she added : — 

“ It was so beautiful.” 

“ Where did you go ” 

“ I just told you ; I stayed in the garden.” 

“ Doing nothing ? ” 

“ No.” 

“ What were you doing ? ” 

“ I was looking at the flowers.’^ 

“ Just as I said.” 

Then, as though she felt it her duty to 
keep herself informed, in order to oversee her 
daughter’s studies and to help her make up 
her lost lessons, the mother asked : — 

“ What did you do in the class to-day, Gene- 
vieve ? ” 

“ Let me see,” said the girl, trying to cob 


CHIFFON *S MARRIAGE. 


47 


lect her thoughts ; “ it was all about repro- 
duction to-day.” 

In the midst of an astonished silence she 
went on : “ the reproduction of phaneroga- 
mous plants.” 

Uncle Marc shrugged his shoulders, saying 
in low tones : — 

“ Chiffon is right to study the flowers in her 
own garden. That, at least, has no unpleas- 
ant results.” 

The marquise, who was in total ignorance 
of phanerogamous or any other plants, and 
who had not grasped a word of the foregoing 
conversation, said with a wise, protecting 
manner : — 

“ You have heard, Coryse, what your uncle 
says ? ” 

Coryse did not answer ; Genevibve went on 
speaking to her : — 

“ Tuesday the lecture is to be on Britanni- 
cus.” 

“ I am going ! ” cried Chiffon. “I am so 
fond of Racine.” 

Little Barfleur knew that a man of the 
world ought always to take some part in the 
conversation, no matter what the subject, so 
he asked with polite indifference : — 


48 


CHIFFON'S MARRIAGE. 


“ And why, Mademoiselle, are you so fond 
of Racine ? 

“ I don’t know,” replied Chilfon, also in- 
different. Then, after a moment’s reflection, 
she said, “ Perhaps it is because they wanted 
to make me like Corneille.” 

Marc de Bray laughed ; his step-sister 
turned upon him angrily. 

‘‘One would suppose that you wanted her 
to appear more absurd and unbearable than 
she is ! ” 

“ I ? ” said Uncle Marc, astonished. 

“ Yes, you. You laugh at all her absurdi- 
ties; you seem to find them amusing.” She 
was about to go on ; her voice rose high in 
the midst of the silence. Annoyed at being 
criticised in this way. Chiffon interposed, with 
flashing eyes and nose in the air, as if for 
battle : — 

“ How would it be if you were all to con- 
verse again as you were doing, instead of 
paying so much attention to me ? ” 

One of the doors of the drawing-room, 
which opened into the garden, was ajar. 
Without stopping to judge of the effect pro- 
duced by her proposition, she went out, and 
down the steps where her best friend, Gri- 


CHIFFON’S MARRIAGB. 


49 


bouille, was waiting for her. He was an 
enormous dog, short and stocky, a silly fellow, 
with a ferocious look. 

The night was bright, but there was no 
moon. It was one of those nights which 
Chiffon loved, full of dampness and of per- 
fume. Followed by Gribouille, she wandered 
away from the house to the farther end of the 
garden. The heavy odor of white petunias 
drew her on. When she came near to the 
long bed, which looked pale and white in the 
midst of the dark lawn, she bent over, seized 
with sudden longing to roll in the fragrant 
blossoms, and to enjoy their odor ; but she 
stopped, thinking that she might do them 
harm. 

For Chiffon, who was convinced that flowers 
suffer, never touched them except with infinite 
delicacy and tender care. 

The noise of a step on the walk made Gri- 
bouille growl ; and she guessed at once that 
it was M. d’Aubieres who was advancing in 
the darkness. 

Distinguishing vaguely the light spot where 
Chiffon stood, he asked : — 

“ Is that you. Mademoiselle Coryse?^' 

“Yes, Monsieur.’' 


5 ^ 


CHIFFOM^S MARRiAGF. 


Hesitatingly he continued. 

Will you permit me to talk with you for a 
moment ? ” 

^‘Why, certainly.” 

^‘Have you — did they tell you that — 
that ” — 

She took pity on his embarrassment. 

“ Yes ; I know that to-day you asked for my 
hand in marriage.” 

With parched throat he whispered, — 

“Well.?” 

“ Well, I was not expecting anything of the 
kind, as you may imagine ; and I must say it 
surprised me a little. Yes, a good deal, if you 
don’t mind my saying so.” 

“Why should it? Have you not guessed 
that for a long time I have loved you ? ” 

She answered quite sincerely : — 

“ Oh, no, I assure you I have not.” 

“ It is true, nevertheless ; I have loved you 
ever since I have known you.” 

“ That is too much. I am very sure that 
the day you met me first, I could not have 
made a very agreeable impression. No, in- 
deed ! ” 

‘‘The first day?” 

“ Yes ; at dinner, that night I sat next you. 


CHIFFON'S MARRIAGE. 


51 


I must have seemed very stupid to you ; I was 
dumb as an oyster. It is true that you bored 
me a good deal too, with your hunts and your 
paper-chases, and all that stuff.” 

“ But,” murmured the poor man, confused, 
“ I did not know what to talk to you about.” 

“ I assure you that I am grateful to you for 
not having talked army to me ; you might have 
done that.” 

“ You are making fun of me — you find me 
absurd, tiresome.” 

“ Oh, no, not at all,” she protested promptly, 
“ never that; I even like you very much ; I am 
pleased when I see you, — accidentally, that is, 
— but if it were to be always, always, all the 
time ” — 

“ Then you do not mean to accept me ? ” 

Chiffon longed to answer plain “ no” to his 
plain question ; in that way, at least, it would 
all be over and need never be mentioned 
again ; but she perceived so much distress in 
the poor, smothered voice which questioned 
her, so much supplication in the tall figure 
leaning toward her, that she did not have the 
courage to cause a real sorrow to this friend 
who seemed to be so fond of her. So she 
answered very prettily: — 


52 


CHIFFON MARRIAGE. 


“ No ; I have not decided yet. I am flat- 
tered and very grateful for your affection, but 
I am only a little girl. I have not thought 
much about serious things ; let me reflect, 
will you ? Do not ask me to say either ‘ yes ’ 
or ^ no ’ at once, for in that case I should say 
‘ no.’” 

“I will wait for your decision, but may I 
be allowed to plead my cause a little ? ” 
Then noticing that Coryse was moving toward 
the house, he quietly took her arm, and made 
her retrace her steps. 

beg you to give me a few moments 
more ; your mother told me I might find you 
here.” 

“ I thought as much ! ” Chiffon exclaimed 
with decision ; and she added to herself, “ She 
can never let me alone.” 

M. d’Aubieres went on, his beautiful voice 
solemn and full of feeling. seem old to 
you ; but I offer you a heart that is young, a 
heart that has never belonged to any one.” 

“ Oh,” said Coryse, with a bewildered look, 
you have not reached your age without ever 
loving any one, have you ? ” 

He replied very gravely : “ Not what I 
mean by loving, never.” 


CHIFFON'S MARRIAGE. 


53 


“ And what do you mean by loving ? 

“ I mean giving all my heart and all my 
life/’ 

“Well, is not that what loving always 
means ? ” 

“ Always ? Well — no — that depends,” 
stammered M. d’Aubibres embarrassed. 

“ Stop ! ” said Chiffon brusquely, “ I should 
like to tell you that I don’t believe you, not 
the least in the world.” 

“ You do not believe me; why not? ” 

“ H’m — well — it is a little hard to tell 
you. But one day last spring — I was riding 
with Uncle Marc in the forest of Crisville, 
and I spied you in the distance — with a lady. 
I recognized you at once, — there is no one 
in Pont-sur-Sarthe as tall as you, — you were 
walking, and a carriage was following you ; 
one of those ridiculous little cabs from the 
stand on the Place du Palais. The lady — it 
was one of those ladies one is not supposed to 
talk about, except my mother and Madame de 
Bassigny; and they step aside if they meet 
one of them in the street or at the circus 
rather than touch them, for they think it in^ 
jures you in some way. I beg your pardon 
for saying that about some one you love.” 


54 


CHIFFON'S MARRIAGE, 


“ I ? ” protested the duke, half in laughter, 
half in vexation. 

“ Or whom you did love at least.’^ Quite im- 
perturbably Chiffon went on : “ Then I said to 
Uncle Marc, ‘ Hello, M. d’Aubibres with one of 
those unmentionable ladies ! ’ Oh, yes ; and I 
forgot to tell you — Paul de Lussy, Genevieve’s 
brother, the one who is a lawyer, you know, 
was wild about that very same person ; and 
Georgette Guibray, your general’s daughter, 
pointed her out to Genevieve one day in the 
park, and said, ‘ Do you know that is the woman 
for whom your brother got himself into so much 
trouble?’ Genevieve pointed her out to me, 
and I asked papa at breakfast the next morning 
to explain it all to me. Heavens ! what a cy- 
clone there was ! My mother rose, waved her 
napkin, and called me ‘ shameless child ! ’ I 
was scared stiff ; I did not understand what it 
was all about ; and after breakfast papa took 
me into the smoking-room and told me I must 
never speak of it, especially before my mother, 
and that, besides, it was better to ignore such 
people entirely, for they live in a little world 
of their own. That night when I went to bed, 
it all began again with my mother. It was 
one of the most beautiful rows I ever re- 


CHIFFON'S MARRIAGE. 


55 


member. But perhaps you are tired of all 
this ? ” 

“ No ; but I should like to explain it to you.” 

“Wait until I have finished. Then I said 
to uncle Marc ‘ There is M. d’Aubieres with the 
unmentionable lady;’ and he replied, ‘You 
don’t know what you are talking about. You 
are as blind as a mole ; and you can’t make out 
a thing at this distance.’ Then I suggested 
running to find out, but he would not allow it ; 
but the very first path we came to, he whisked 
me around the corner so that I could no longer 
see the road. And that was all for that time. 
A month after, I was with old Jean. I saw you 
again with the same lady in almost the same 
place, and this time” — 

“ I want to ” — 

“ It’s not finished yet. I said to myself, I 
am not like my mother and Madame de Bas- 
signy. I am not afraid of being injured; I 
will look close at them; so I trotted along. 
‘Mam’zelle Coryse,’ Jean called, ‘the road is 
getting tremendously heavy; the horses will 
surely break their necks ; it’s my opinion we’d 
better go back the way we came.’ You can 
imagine I did not listen ; for just at that mo- 
ment you got into the ridiculous cab and 


CHIFFON MARRIAGE. 


S6 


drove off on the Crisville road. I said to 
Jean, ^ I want to know where they are going; ’ 
and he said, ‘ Mam’zelle, that is one of the 
things you must not do.’ ” 

“ And after that ? ” 

“Afterward I lost you a a corner, but I 
found you again at the Crisville Inn. Your 
horse was eating oats ; and you were at the 
window up-stairs with the lady, and then I 
thought ” — 

“ You thought ? ” 

“ If M. d’Aubibres hides himself in the 
woods and in inns with a woman with whom 
he cannot be seen, it shows that he is bound 
to see her at any cost; and if he wishes to see 
her at any cost, it is because he loves her, as 
Paul de Lussy loved her, and even more ; be- 
cause for him, a colonel, to risk so much, a 
serious man, and an old one besides” — 

Then, as the duke moved uneasily : — 

“Yes, in comparison with Paul who is 
twenty- two, you are old, are you not? For 
you to do such a thing, — when Paul did it 
they called it folly, — it must be that you ” — 
“ It is simply that I was terribly bored in 
Pont-sur-Sarthe, and sought, in no matter what 
world, such distraction as I had to have. I 


CHIFFON *S M/IRRIAGE. 


57 


cannot explain to you what you ought not to 
understand; but I can assure you that what- 
ever you may have seen or heard about my 
dull existence, I am still worthy to love you 
and to be your husband. Never, until the 
day I met you, had I entertained the idea of 
giving either my name or my heart to any one ; 
and I offer you, in spite of my advanced age, 
a love which is very fresh and very pure.” 

Pressing the little arm, which he had kept 
within his own, he murmured : “ Let me hope 
a little, I beg of you.” 

“ If I do not say ‘ yes ’ to you at once,” 
said Coryse frankly, “ it is because I want to 
marry a man I love, or whom I feel I could 
love, better than all others ; for I detest soci- 
ety, and I hate frills and ruffles. Up to this 
time the only people I have loved have been 
my uncle and aunt, papa. Uncle Marc, old 
Jean, my nurse, Gribouille, and my flowers. 
I want to love my husband, if not with that 
love of which I am still ignorant, at least, 
very tenderly, very truly.” 

M. d’Aubieres took the child’s hands, and 
pressing them to his lips, said, “I shall be 
horribly wretched if I have to give you up.” 

He drew her to him, and she let him do so, 


CHIFFON M/iRRUGE. 


5S 


moved by his trembling voice, by all his ten- 
derness, which she felt to be very real. 

“ Chiffon,” he murmured, “ my little Chiffon.” 

She let him hold her, while she, dreaming, 
was asking herself if she could not one day 
learn to love this man who cared so much for 
her, and who seemed so good. But M. d’Au- 
bieres, unable to endure the touch of the sup- 
ple little form, yielding so confidingly to him, 
unstrung by the night, by the darkness, in- 
toxicated by the perfume exhaled by the 
flowers at that hour of the night, lost his 
head completely. With a violence that was 
almost brutal, he clasped Coryse in his arms, 
covering her brow and hair with wild kisses. 
With great effort, almost with horror, she 
freed herself ; and as the duke regained his 
senses, and, distressed at what he had done, 
murmured : “ Pardon me — I love you so,” 
she replied simply, putting away the fear 
which in her innocence she could not ex- 
plain : — 

“ And I, too, — I beg your pardon ; but you 
see I cannot permit any one to kiss me.” 


CHIFFON MARRIAGE. 


59 


CHAPTER IV. 

“Have you seen Chiffon this morning?’^ 
asked M. de Bray of the marquise, as she 
came into the library where he and his brother 
were talking a few moments before breakfast. 

“ No ; have you ? ” 

“ I met her about nine o’clock in the rue 
des Benedictins,” said Uncle Marc; “she was 
running along as fast as she could, followed 
by old Jean.” 

The marquise was furious at this, and cried, 
“ What ! She has been out, and without per- 
mission ? ” 

In a conciliatory manner M. de Bray sug- 
gested that she had probably gone to mass. 

“To mass? She never goes except on 
Sunday.’’ 

Marc, who was standing in front of the 
window, announced : “ Here she comes ; she 
is in the yard with Luce.” 

“Luce” was the Baroness de Givry, first 
cousin of M. de Bray. She came into the 
library, followed by Chiffon, who, chin in air, 


6o 


CHIFFON'S MARRIAGE. 


walked in with the utmost indifference. With- 
out even saying “ good-morning to the young 
woman, the marquise demanded, in those 
shrill, screaming head-tones which always 
made Coryse half shut her eyes: — 

“Where have you been ? ” 

“ At Saint Marcien,” replied the girl. 

“ How is that, you who never go to mass 'I ” 

“I have not been to mass.” 

“ Then, why did you go there ? ” 

“To see the Abbe Chatel.” 

“ What for ? ” 

“ Because I had something to say to him.” 

“Well, and what did he reply.?” inquired 
Madame de Bray uneasily. 

“ Before telling you what he replied, I 
should perhaps have to tell you what I asked 
of him ; ” then laughing, she added, “ that 
would take too long.” 

The marquis was speaking to Madame de 
Givry : “ Did you meet at the Abbe Chatel’s 
confessional .? ” he asked. 

“ No,” replied the young woman, somewhat 
embarrassed. “ The Abbe Ch^tel is no longer 
my confessor.” 

“ Oh,” said the marquis, astonished, “ is it 
possible ? You who could not move the tip of 


CHIFFON ’5 MARRIAGE. 6 1 


your finger without going to ask him how you 
should move it, you who talked continually of 
him, — too much, let me say in confidence, — 
what can have happened to you ? ” 

Luce de Givry, a large, tall woman of twenty- 
eight, brunette and bony, and lacking in every 
grace, had a great reputation in Pont-sur-Sarthe 
for her austere, narrow, and tiresome piety ; but 
she was tolerant at the same time ; that is, she 
never concerned herself with what those who 
I thought and lived differently from herself^id ^ 
or did not do. Of a restless disposition, she 
tried to combine good works and society, 
which she loved passionately, and which, as 
Marc de Bray justly said, repaid her with rank 
ingratitude. It was not that she was disagree- 
able or lacking in intelligence, but she failed 
to please because of certain peculiarities, and 
more especially because of her lack of youth 
and charm. Women were ill at ease with her 
because of her severe and substantial virtues ; 
men could not pardon her lack of grace ; so 
that Luce was appreciated only by her family, 
who loved her for her fine qualities and her 
real goodness. 

“ Tell me again what you just told Pierre,” 
said Marc, feigning surprise. Madame de 


62 


CHIFFON'S MARRIAGE. 


Givry obligingly repeated, “ I do not confess 
to him any more.” 

“You have quarreled.? ” 

“We have not quarreled, but he did not 
want me to come any more.” 

“ How long since ? ” asked Chiffon, also 
much surprised. 

“ Since my ball — the ball I gave at the 
time of the coficours hippique." 

“ What was that to him ? ” said Marc ; “ is he 
fool enough to meddle in such things ? ” 

“Oh,” protested Luce vivaciously, “it is 
not his fault, poor abbe, it is mine ; I went the 
night before the ball to ask his permission to 
give it.” 

“ What next ? ” 

“ Well, he said to me, ‘ My child, things of 
that sort are not in my province at all.’ ” 

“ He is a man of sense.” 

“ I insisted ; but he would not listen. He 
said, ‘ Do not come to me, a priest, to ask per- 
mission to give at your own home an entertain' 
ment of which the church does not approve ; I 
ought not to encourage you.’ — ‘But my hus- 
band wants to give a ball.’ — ‘Well, then, give 
your ball, and come to tell me about it after- 
wards, and we will try and settle it.’ — ‘ I do 


CHIFFON MARRIAGE. 


63 


not wish to give a ball without your permis- 
sion.’ — ‘Really, my child, you put me in a 
very absurd position.’ ” 

“ He was right, poor man,” said Marc de 
Bray, laughing. 

“ He is a crusty old thing,” said the mar- 
quise, who in the way of priests cared only for 
the Jesuits. 

Coryse protested, angry that a word should 
be said against the old abbe, whom she dearly 
loved. “ Crusty — he — not the least in the 
world ; but don’t you see that it is not his busi- 
ness to encourage the people of Pont-sur- 
Sarthe in prancing about ? ” 

Then, turning to Mademoiselle de Givry, 
she said: — 

“There is one thing. Luce, that I don’t 
understand in all this affair ; you don’t do a 
thing but go to balls the whole time, so I sup- 
posed you had permission.” 

“ And I have too — that is what I said to 
the Abbe Chatel : ‘ But you allow me to go to 
balls ? ’ and he replied, ‘ My child, that has 
nothing to do with it. A ball is a place where 
one is more exposed to temptation than in 
most other places.’ ” 

“ Oh,” said Chiffon thoughtfully. 


64 


CHIFFON MARRIAGE. 


“ ‘ So when you give a ball, you encourage, 
you facilitate in a way, the commission of sin. 
You are, in a measure, an accomplice and 
responsible, while on the other hand, when 
you go to a ball, I permit you to go in all se- 
curity, because I am sure not only that you 
will not sin, but that you will not be for any 
one else a cause of sin.’ Does that make you 
laugh?” said Madame de Givry, turning to 
Marc, who was shaking in his chair. “ For 
my part, I was distressed. The invitations 
were all out ; it was only two days beforehand. 
I came home and told Hubert and mamma 
that we would not give the ball, because the 
Abbd Chatel had refused to give me permis- 
sion.” 

“ I suppose they persisted ? ” queried Coryse, 
who was also laughing. 

I assure you they did ; mamma told me I 
was crazy to go and talk to the abbe about it. 
Hubert was furious ; he said ^ Very well, we 
will give up the ball ; but as we are no longer 
in mourning, and as I do not intend that we 
shall receive attentions without making any 
return, we will go nowhere, — do you under- 
stand? — absolutely nowhere. It is nothing 
to me ; I detest society, but you ? ’ Of course 


CHIFFON MARRIAGE. 


6$ 


I was in despair ; and then God Almighty had 
pity upon me, and he inspired me with the 
idea of going to find dear Father Ragon.” 

“ Ah ! ’’ said Coryse with a grimace. 

“And Father Ragon was charming. He 
said to me, when I told him about the Abbd 
Chatel’s prohibition ” — 

“ Much good his prohibition did him at 
that late day,” grumbled Coryse. 

“Well, when I had explained why I came 
to consult him, he replied : ‘ What does the 
Evangelist say, my child ? “ that the wife 
owes obedience to her husband.” Your hus- 
band wishes you to give a ball ; God will 
wish it also.’ ” 

“ What an idea to mix God up in all that,” 
protested Coryse. “ I merely ask you if it 
is not absurd to put such things off on his 
shoulders ? ” 

“ I was delighted,” continued Madame de 
Givry; “ I rushed directly to the Abbd Chatel, 
and told him I had been and confessed to 
Father Ragon, and that I had permission. 
He said, ‘ Then you are satisfied with Father 
Ragon, my child?’ And I, not daring to 
go on too much about Father Ragon, or to 
say all the good I thought of him for fear 


66 


CHIFFON'S MARRIAGE. 


of hurting the Abbe Chatel, merely said ‘Yes,’ 
because I did not want to tell a lie ; then he 
said, ‘ Go back to him then ! I shall be de- 
lighted to have you, for I have never seen 
any one more wearing than you at con- 
fessional.’ He actually said wearing; just 
fancy.” 

“ He learned that from me ! ” exclaimed 
Coryse, laughing; “the poor abbe, he is so 
good and so droll.” 

“ Do you know. Luce,” counseled Marc de 
Bray, “ you would do well not to say too much 
about that affair "i ” 

“ Why ? ” asked Madame de Givry ingenu- 
ously. 

“ Because you will make yourself ridiculous, 
and the abbe too,” he added, thinking that 
the fear of doing an injury to her old con- 
fessor would do more toward keeping the 
young woman’s mouth shut, than the fear of 
injuring herself. 

The marquise exclaimed : — 

“ The Abbe Chatel is a man of the people ; 
he has very little comprehension, and no del- 
icacy, no appreciation of worldly things ; so, 
naturally, Coryse would choose him as her 
confessor.” 


CHIFFON MARRIAGE. 


67 


‘‘ The Abbd Chatel is not my confessor/’ 
replied Chiffon ; “ or, at least, he is so no 
longer.” 

“ How long since, I beg of you ? ” 

“Not for three or four years; not since I 
have been left to myself, and allowed to go 
about with Jean, since my first communion, 
or nearly as long as that.” 

“Oh,” said Madame de Bray, somewhat 
confused to find herself so little acquainted 
with her daughter’s actions ; “ yet you are 
always running to him. What do you go for 
if he is no longer your confessor ? ” 

“ He is my confidant, and I am fond of him. 
I think he is frank and honest, and I tell him 
all my little affairs ; those I think ought to be 
told.” 

“Then,” asked the marquise, vexed, “to 
whom do you confess at present ? ” 

“ To no one, or to every one, if you prefer. 
I go sometimes to one, and sometimes to an- 
other ; to Saint Marcien, to the Cathedral, to 
the new Chapel, to Notre-Dame-de-Lys ; I 
make the rounds of all the parishes ; and as 
there are at least three vicars to a parish, I 
have some left over. I confess about six 
times a year; so they will last a long tim,e 


68 


CHIFFON *S MARRIAGE. 


at that rate, and when I have finished, I can 
begin over again.” 

“ The child is crazy, absolutely crazy,” said 
the marquise sadly, “ to go hither and thither, 
instead of choosing an intelligent director.” 

A director! that is exactly what I don’t 
want,” declared Chiffon dryly. “ I do what I 
think I ought to do, but in my own way. It 
is prescribed that you should confess ; but you 
are not ordered to initiate into your life, and 
to accustom to your thoughts and your faults, 
a person who knows you, and who meets you 
outside of church. The idea is odious ; this 
mixing of the worldly and the divine, like a 
salad, I find grotesque and repugnant.” 

“ That is absurd,” rejoined the marquise. 
“According to your idea, one would not con- 
sult a doctor if he was afraid of meeting him 
socially, aside from his visits.” 

“ That has nothing to do with it.” 

“ On the contrary, it is exactly the same 
thing ; to one you show the soul, to the other 
the body; and that is worse.” 

“ For my part, if it were absolutely neces- 
sary to show either the one or the other, I 
should show my body more willingly than my 
soul.” 


CHIFFON MARRIAGE. 


69 


Be quiet ! shrieked Madame de Bray, ris- 
ing and extending her arms in one of those 
grand gestures to be seen in the kind of plays 
she affected. “ Be quiet ! you are a horrible 
creature, a girl without modesty.’’ 

“ Perhaps I understand modesty in a dif- 
ferent sense,” replied Chiffon calmly. 

“ Keep still ; I adjure you to keep still.” 
“ Adjure ” having brought a mocking smile to 
Marc’s frank face, the wrath of his step-sister 
was turned toward him. 

“ It is a fine thing for you to laugh ; it be- 
comes you so well, you who are partly respon- 
sible for Corysande’s tone and manners.” 
When, in accordance with his custom in simi- 
ilar cases, Marc de Bray did not reply, the 
marquise grew still more angry. 

“ Yes ; it is useless for you to deny it; it is 
because of you that I can no nothing with the 
child. I know only too well that her nature is 
bad, but ” — 

“ I am going to leave you to your breakfast,” 
said Madame de Givry, in haste to depart be- 
fore the scene which she foresaw. Then turn- 
ing timidly to Coryse, to whom in her fear of 
Madame de Bray she dared not address her- 
self directly, she added gently, am so sorry ; 


70 


CHIFFON MHRFUGE. 


it is partly my fault ; it was I who brought up 
the subject of the Abbe Chatel, and that was 
how the rest came about.” 

“ Bah ! ” said Coryse, impertinently looking 
at her mother, “ the rest always comes ; it 
does not need you to bring it about.” 

She was about to escape by following her 
cousin from the room ; but the marquise 
called her back in tones more angry than 
usual. 

“ Remain ! I wish to speak to you.” 

Without a word Chiffon came back and sat 
down. 

“ I wish to know,” asked Madame de Bray, 
“what answer we are to give to the Duke 
d’Aubieres ? ” 

“ None ; I will answer him myself,” said 
Coryse quietly. 

“I am your mother; and I have the right, 
I think, to know what this answer is to be.” 

‘‘Very well, I cannot make up my mind to 
marry M. d’Aubibres ; and I am terribly sorry, 
for I am very, very fond of him.” 

“But this is madness. You will never have 
another such opportunity.” 

“ And I reply that it would be very wrong 
of me to say ‘ yes ’ when my heart does not con- 


CHIFFON MARRIAGE. 


n 


sent. I have reflected seriously, and I have 
decided absolutely.^’ 

“ Did the Abbe Chatel influence you ? ” 

“ The Abbe Chatel, to whom I explained 
my position, approves ; but he made no sug- 
gestions. On the contrary, he advised me to 
wait awhile before deciding anything, — that 
is he did, until I told him what ” — 

The marquise had been lost in thought for 
a moment, and was not listening to what her 
daughter was saying. All at once one of those 
abrupt changes which were frequent with her 
came over her, and she became suddenly 
tender and pathetic. 

“ Corysande — my darling child — you are 
all I have in the world ; you are my only love, 
my only joy ; I have lived for you alone ; 
since the day you were born I have had no 
other thought but of you.” 

Accustomed as Chiffon was to these lyrical 
crises of her mother, she always felt a vague 
surprise in the presence of that formidable as- 
surance which in spite of herself disconcerted 
her, and at the same time impressed her as 
comical. She listened with parted lips and 
glistening eyes, her temples showing the slight 
pulsation which was the precursor of a wild 


72 


CHIFFON'S MARRIAGF. 


fit of laughter. She dropped her eyes, fear- 
ing it would burst forth if she should catch the 
dumfounded expression on the face of the 
marquis or the sinister look on her Uncle 
Marc’s. 

“You have always been deeply ungrateful, I 
know,” continued the marquise ; “ and I shall 
not attempt to change you; I do not hope 
that you will do the least thing for my sake, 
or for any one else ; but it is for your own in- 
terest that I beg you to reflect, not to decide 
lightly.” 

“ I am not deciding lightly,” answered Chif- 
fon frankly. 

“ But you are consulting no one.” 

“ But I have ; and all those whom I have 
consulted have told me that in this case I 
have only to take counsel with myself.” 

The marquise clasped her hands, and said 
tragically : — 

“ For the last time, I beg of you to wait be- 
fore giving any answer until you have con- 
sulted a few people of insight — Father Ragon, 
for example,” she added indifferently. 

“ Stuff and nonsense,” replied Coryse, half- 
vexed and half-laughing. 

“ Do you think he will discover some subtle 


CHIFFON’S MARRIAGE. 


73 


combination as he did in the case of Luce’s 
ball ? ” 

“ Do you wish me to go down on my knees 
before you in order to ” — 

“No, thank you — not at all — it’s not 
worth making so much fuss about. I will see 
Father Ragon whenever you wish ; it’s all 
the same to me. Only it was easier for him 
to settle that affair between Luce and God, 
than the one between M. d’Aubieres and me.’’ 

“ Promise me that you will go this very day 
to see Father Ragon.” 

“ I promise.” 

“ And that you will listen to his counsel ? ” 
“ I will listen ; but that is not saying I will 
follow it.” 

“ What did you say to him last evening 1 ” 
“ To whom ? ” 

“ To M. d’Aubibres.” 

“ I told him the truth ; that I liked him very 
much, but not enough to marry him ; but that 
I would see — reflect ” — 

“ And what did he say ? ” 

“ He kissed me ; and I did not like it.” 
“That was because it was the first time, 
and it frightened you.” 

“ Indeed it did not frighten me the least bit 


74 


CHIFFON MARRIAGE. 


in the world. But it produced a horrible 
effect upon me, that is all ; and the proof that 
I was not frightened is, that I dared to tell 
him that it did have that kind of an effect.” 

“ Oh, you told him that ! ” 

^‘Poor Aubieres,” murmured Uncle Marc, 
laughing. A servant announced, “Madame 
la Marquise is served.” 

Immediately after breakfast, while Coryse 
was serving the coffee, Madame de Bray 
furtively left the library. 

“ Ah,” said the girl, noticing her flight, “ she 
is going to give Father Ragon his cue. It is 
useless ; for in the first place I have a horror 
of him, with his crafty look and his strained 
smile, old beau, that he is, trying to conceal 
his black teeth.” 

“You ought not to take these violent dis- 
likes without any reason,” advised the mar- 
quis, who was always kind. 

“ But I have a reason.’’ 

“ Indeed, what is it 1 ” 

^‘Because I do not esteem him.” 

Uncle Marc and M. de Bray began to laugh. 
The manner in which Chiffon announced that 
she did not “esteem ” this very intelligent and 
all-powerful man, who led all the women, and 


CHIFFON’S MARRIAGE. 


75 


a large number of the men, in Pont-sur-Sarthe, 
seemed to them very comical. 

The girl blushed. 

“ You are poking fun at me,” she said ; I 
can see it. To use the word ‘ esteem ’ may 
seem ridiculous ; it may be the wrong word ; 
but, nevertheless, it is the only word I know 
to express what I mean.” 

“No, no. Chiffon,” protested M de Bray; 
“ no one is making fun of you. Come, now, 
that we are alone, tell us what the Abbe 
Chatel said to you, won’t you?” 

“ It was I, rather, who said something to 
him.” 

“ What ? ” 

“ I told him the whole affair of last even- 
ing.” 

“ About M. d’Aubiere’s proposal ? ” 

“ No ; about his kissing me.” 

“Oh, yes, yes; I did not know that you 
called that an ‘ affair.’ ” 

“Great heavens! it was important enough 
to me ; for at the moment that M. d’Aubieres 
did what he did, I was on the verge of say- 
ing ‘ yes ’ — a little more and I should have 
done so, — then in a jiffy it all flashed in the 
pan.” 


76 


CHIFFON MARRIAGE. 


“ But why?” 

“Because it was all so dreadful to me, I 
tell you ; and when I thought that a woman 
is obliged to permit her husband to embrace 
her whenever he wishes to, I could not con- 
sent with that in prospect ; no, I could not.” 

“ And is that what you told the abbe ? ” 
asked Marc, who was highly amused. 

“ Why, no.” 

“ And how did you say it ? ” 

“ I said, ‘ Monsieur I’abbe, M. d’Aubibres 
has asked me to marry him, etc. At home 
they want me to say “ yes.” ’ ” 

“ Allow me to contradict you,” interrupted 
M. de Bray quickly. “ I have never wished 
it.” 

“ He understood that it was not you I 
meant when I said ‘ they ; ’ he knew whom I 
had in mind. Then I asked what he would 
advise ; and he replied, ‘ My dear little girl, 
since your relatives desire this marriage, it 
only remains for you to consult your own 
heart and mind ; they will show you better 
than I what answer you ought to make.’ 
Then I said, ‘ My reason says “ yes ” unhesi- 
tatingly, and my heart almost says so ; but last 
night M. d’Aubieres kissed me under the trees 


CHIFFON’S MARRIAGE. 


77 


in the garden ; ’ and then I tried to explain as 
best I could the effect it had upon me ; but 
the abb(^ cut me off short, saying. ‘ That will 
do, my child, that will do ; I do not need to 
to know any more.’ Why are you laughing, 
Uncle Marc ? ” 

“ Because you are so funny with your tales 
to the poor old abbe, who was never made to 
listen to that sort of thing.” 

“ Quite the contrary ; that’s what he’s for ; 
and I insisted upon explaining to him the 
strange feeling which I had in me, at the 
moment when ” — 

“ Oh, you insisted upon telling him ? ” 

“Yes ; I told him that I had never felt that 
way before, not even on the first of January 
when I have often had to kiss pretty disgust- , 
ing people.” 

“ And why did you tell the Abbe Chatel that 
you had to kiss disgusting people on the first 
of January?” asked M. de Bray, astonished. 

“ Because it is true. First Madame de Clair- 
ville always kisses me through her moist veil, 
and Cousin la Balue next. Do you think he 
is appetizing. Cousin la Balue ? He hasn’t any 
moist veil, but he drivels ; and it amounts to 
the same thing. And yet, in spite of all, I 


78 


CHIFFON’S MARRIAGE. 


believe I prefer them to M. d’Aubihres last 
evening.” 

“ You are not serious ? ” 

“ Not serious ? Indeed, if you fancy that I 
am joking, you are greatly mistaken. I have 
no desire to ” — Suddenly she asked, ‘‘ What 
time is it ? ” 

“ Two o’clock.” 

“ What, already ! I must fly, for I have 
promised to go to see Father Ragon.” 

“ You have lots of time ; I believe he does 
not go to his confessional until four o’clock.” 

“ But I’m not going to his confessional ; I 
am going to ask to see him in his parlor. At 
confessional I should have to wait for ages. 
Four o’clock is the hour for the rabble. Good- 
by.” With a long slide she left the library, 
and her clear voice was heard calling old Jean. 

A serious expression came over Marc’s face 
as he declared : — 

“ Whether Chiffon marries Aubiere or some 
one else, when she is no longer with us we 
shall miss her sadly.” 


CHIFFON’S MARRIAGE. 


79 


CHAPTER V. 

When Chiffon arrived at the house of the 
Jesuit it was almost three o’clock; a storm 
was threatening, which darkened the sky and 
made the air stifling. 

“ Stay in the garden, if you wish,” she said 
to old Jean, who was following her into the 
house and looking suspiciously around. “ It 
will be more amusing for you.” 

“ But what if it should rain ?” he suggested. 

“ Oh, if it rains, you will come in. What in 
the world makes you walk like that? One 
would suppose you were afraid of falling into 
dungeons.” 

“ I am not exactly afraid, but I’m not quite 
at ease here. Mademoiselle Coryse ; it seems 
as if the walls had ears, and that sends a cold 
chill over me; then, besides, these slippery 
floors.” 

‘^Oh, that’s it, is it? Swear a little; that 
sometimes has a good effect.” 

“ But I slip so ; let me get on the carpet 

again.’^ 


8o 


CHIFFON MARRIAGB 


“ How would it be if you were to try skat- 
ing ? ” The old servant kept slipping over 
the shiny floor and on the small squares of 
carpet, which were few and far between in the 
great room. Coryse pushed him out of the 
door, and said to him, laughing, — 

“ Go on, now, or you will have an acci- 
dent.” 

As soon as he had left, Chilfon walked up 
and down the long room which she saw now for 
the first time. She was familiar only with the 
chapel of the fanciful new building which the 
Jesuits of Pont-sur-Sarthe had just erected. 
There she w'as obliged to go whenever her 
mother insisted upon taking her to one of 
their fashionable services. Madame de Bray 
believed with some reason that the Jesuits 
were people whom it was not only good to 
see, but with whom it was very good to be 
seen. All society, young men included, 
crowded into these services ; and the galleries 
of the chapel had seen the beginnings of 
many a flirtation and many a marriage. 
Coryse, who was bored in the beginning at 
being dragged to these services which seemed 
like a desecration to her, ended by gradually 
becoming interested in the small intrigues 


CHIFFON MARRIAGE. 


8i 


which went on under her eyes. She came to 
know all the little religious and worldly rival- 
ries ; she knew that a certain father, who was 
in great demand, was the object of much jeal- 
ousy on the part of some of the others, who 
were annoyed at his success ; and also that a 
certain elegant woman of high position had 
the entree to the confessional at all hours, 
while it was open to more modest penitents 
only at stated times. 

While waiting for Father Ragon, the most 
sought-after of all the worldly fathers. Chiffon 
compared their large, cheerful house, con- 
structed with an English regard for comfort, 
hidden under a pleasing and intentional sever- 
ity, with the mournful, squalid dwelling in 
which were crowded the curate of the cath- 
edral and his three vicars. And she said to 
herself, with her childish good sense, that if 
the society people of Pont-sur-Sarthe were 
familiar with the road to the one, the poor 
people knew still better the road to the other. 
It seemed to her that the great sums of 
money brought here by means of legacies, 
gifts, and begging, were never distributed; 
while the meager sums, obtained with so 
much effort, passed straight through the 


CHIFFON *S MARRIAGE. 


S2 


hands of the occupants of the curate’s poor 
gray house. 

Chiffon had an instinctive dislike for people 
who accumulated money. The word “sav- 
ings,” which she heard spoken with the respect 
which it inspires in the provinces, was hateful 
and repugnant to her ; and she thought, that 
in this beautiful new house they must save 
much for themselves, and give very little to 
the poor. She noticed, as she walked up and 
down the parlor, the peep-holes cut in the 
white walls, and they reminded her of the 
windows in a bank; and the Jesuit fathers, 
who from time to time rapidly crossed the 
long apartment with mincing steps, seemed 
to her much more like clerks than religious 
teachers. Everything in the monastery spoke 
to her of the world ; nothing spoke of God. 
After a time Coryse grew impatient. “ I cer- 
tainly can’t wait indefinitely ; it is almost five 
o’clock; I must go to the lecture.” 

She drew near the window, and saw Jean 
who had fallen asleep on a bench in the gar- 
den. At first he had sat up correctly, straight 
as in his better days, but finally he fell asleep, 
his legs outstretched, his body motionless, his 
head nodding ; and the fathers who from 


CHIFFON MARRIAGE. 


S3 


time to time passed by on their way to the 
chapel turned with surprise and some uneasi- 
ness toward the figure asleep on the bench in 
the sprawling attitude of a drunken man. 
Their silent indignation amused Coryse 
intensely; and she had ceased to be bored 
when the sound of a very sweet voice made 
her turn her head. 

“ Is that you, my child ? I cannot receive 
you just now.” 

“ Oh,” said Chiffon, “ I thought that my 
mother had asked you if I might come.” 
Then stepping toward the door, she added 
amiably and with evident relief : — 

“ But if you cannot, I will go.” 

Father Ragon stopped her with a gesture. 

“ I cannot receive you here.” 

“ I beg your pardon, it was my mother 
who ” — 

“ Yes ; your mother knows that I sometimes 
see her in the reception room ; but what I can 
do for her, often with difficulty, I cannot do 
for you.” 

As the girl did not answer, he went on. 

“Your mother has told me, my child, that 
you wished to consult me upon a very serious 
question.” 


84 


CHIFFON MARRIAGE. 


“ Oh, I wish — that is, she wishes — 

“ Very well ; I will hear you presently at my 
confessional.” 

But,” protested Chiffon, ‘‘I did not come 
to confess.” 

“What does that signify? My penitents 
await me already. I cannot linger any longer.” 

Coryse foresaw the long wait in the new, the 
frightfully new, chapel, where the gold was so 
glaring that it swore at the crude greens of 
the frescoing; that chapel where the eye 
could not rest on anything soft and tranquil, 
where in the midst of the chattering and rus- 
tling, one could neither meditate nor pray; 
and the dread she had of waiting in this place 
suggested an idea which she thought perhaps 
might enable her to escape. 

“ I will wait in the chapel. It will not be 
tedious there, the ladies all talk so loud,” she 
said to the priest. We must believe that 
Father Ragon was not anxious to admit to 
Chiffon’s mocking ears the confidences of 
those whom she so irreverently spoke of as 
les grenouilles de Hnitier ; for suddenly he 
thought better of his first plan, and said, as 
though nothing had been agreed upon : — 

“ Come ; since you seem to wish it, I will 


CHIFFON MARRIAGE. 




listen to you here. Then with a changed 
voice, and in a low, muffled tone, he said : “ I 
will listen, my child ; what have you to say to 
me ? ” 

‘‘I?” she replied with deliberation, “noth- 
ing at all ; I thought that you were to tell me 
something.” 

More accustomed to defense than to attack. 
Father Ragon hesitated, then deciding upon 
his rble^ said : — 

“Your mother has apprised me of the fact 
that the Due d’Aubibres has asked for your 
hand, and that you seem to view this demand 
with — I will not say repugnance ” — 

“ Oh, you may say so ; go on.” 

On other occasions when Chilfon had ac- 
companied Madame de Bray, the Jesuit had 
merely addressed to her the ordinary words of 
welcome, to which she had replied in mono- 
syllables or not at all ; so her freedom of lan- 
guage, to which his ordinary visitors had not 
accustomed him, somewhat nonplussed him. 
A pause ensued. 

“ Well ? ” queried Coryse simply. 

“ Well,” continued Father Ragon, decidedly 
disconcerted, “ this offer, which would be flat- 
tering to any young girl, is for you not only 


S6 CHIFFON’S MARRIAGE. 


flattering, but unhoped for ; you have no for- 
tune, while the Due d’Aubibres, although not 
rich, finds himself rich enough for two. In 
thus asking for your hand, he gives a beautiful 
example of disinterestedness.’^ 

“ I know that, and I am very grateful to M. 
d’Aubieres ; besides that, I like him.” 

You like him ? ” 

“ With all my heart ; I certainly like him the 
best of all those who come to our house.” 

“ Then I do not understand why you ” — 

“You do not understand ? It seems limpid 
enough to me. I like M. d’Aubibres as I like 
Madame Jarville, or the Abbe Chatel, for 
example. I like them for the pleasure of lik- 
ing them ; but, bless your soul, I should not 
think of marrying them.” 

“ My child, I see that you do not in the 
least comprehend what marriage is.” 

“ I know that ; but at least I have an idea ; 
you can always have an idea about a thing, 
can’t you? Well, when I marry, I wish to 
love my husband in a way that is different 
from the way I love M. d’Aubibres and the 
Abbe Chatel. That’s all.” 

“ Yes ; you are somewhat sentimental, like 
all young girls.” 


CHIFFON MARRIAGE. 


^7 


“ I ? ” cried Chiffon indignantly, “ not a bit 
of it, except perhaps in regard to the flowers, 
the rivers, and the sky ; it is true that I love 
to lie on the ground and dream about them 
all ; yes, I admit that I am sentimental about 
things., and even about animals, if you wish, 
but about people, — oh, fudge, no ! ” 

Positively stunned at her manner of speak- 
ing, Father Ragon asked, a smile of amiable 
scorn playing about his very thin and sinuous 
lips, “ Who brings you up, my child ? ” She 
replied, without seeming to perceive his irony, 

“Just now papa and Uncle Marc; before 
that, my Uncle and Aunt de Launey.” 

As the Jesuit, in his effort to remember, 
repeated “ De Launey ? ” Chiffon laughingly 
added : — 

“ Oh, you won’t remember ; they don’t come 
here ; they are not that sort ; they are nice, 
quiet old people, not fashionable, not at all 
in the swim. They go to church in their own 
parish. But, pardon me, you were saying, 
when I interrupted you, that I was sentimen- 
tal ; it was because of that very thing that I 
cut you short.” 

“ I was saying that young girls were all 
more or less in love with some ideal or other, 


88 


CHIFFON MARRIAGE. 


an ideal which they make up out of whole 
cloth and which they never meet, never. 

“ I am not in love with any ideal.” 

“ That is fortunate ; for in that case you can 
consider without prejudice the beautiful future 
which is opening before you if you marry the 
Due d’Aubieres.” 

“ ‘ Beautiful future ’ for me who could never 
endure the idea of marrying a military man. 
I have a horror of them ; that is to say, of 
officers. As for the soldiers, it is not their 
fault, poor things ; I quite pity them, and like 
them because of their misfortune. I never 
meet one on a warm day without wanting to 
ask him to come into the house for a drink of 
something.” 

Father Ragon looked at Chiffon in amaze- 
ment, thinking that Madame de Bray was 
decidedly right when she said that her daugh- 
ter was not like other people. He replied 
with exaggerated coolness and correctness : — 

“ Truly, my child, you have a strange way 
of talking.” 

Quite sincerely and pretty, Coryse excused 
herself. 

“ Oh, I know I have ; that is very true ; but 
I simply cannot help it, it is instinctive. I 


CHIFFON MARRIAGE. 


89 


beg your pardon, I know I must shock you; 
I shock the Abbd Chatel ; and there is the 
more reason that I should shock you, for you 
see you are a. man of the world, and I am 
not ! '' 

“ Well,” said the Jesuit, laughing in spite 
of himself, “are you disposed, my child, to 
reflect before giving up this marriage — to 
listen to my counsel?” 

“ Reflecting would do no good ! In the 
first place, when I reflect I grow sleepy ; be- 
sides, the more I should reflect, the more I 
should say ‘ no ; ’ so there would be nothing 
gained in making me reflect ; and as for fol- 
lowing your advice, if you wish me to speak 
frankly 

“ Yes; speak quite frankly.” 

“ Well, then, I don’t exactly see why I 
should follow your advice. You don’t know 
me ; you have never seen me as long as this 
before ; everything about me must displease 
you.” 

Seeing that the Jesuit made a faint gesture 
of protestation, she went on. 

“ Yes, yes, I feel it ; I displease you ; and 
there is no reason why you should be inter- 
ested in me, What you say to me, you say 


90 


CHIFFON MARRIAGE. 


because my mother very foolishly asked you 
to.” 

“ I say it because it is my opinion.” 

“ That may be ; but it is your opinion be- 
cause my mother has explained to you that 
having no fortune I have no reason to expect 
anything but a poor marriage, while this offer 
is a superb one ; and so, simply because I am 
not rich, you advise me to marry a man I 
could not love, at least not in the way I wish 
to love the one with whom I am to spend my 
life.” 

“ My child, you are mistaken. It is because 
the Due d’Aubieres is an honorable man, of 
noble birth, and a good one besides, that I 
advise you to marry him. I should give you 
the same advice, even if you were very rich.” 

“ Not a bit of it. In the first place, if I 
were very rich, instead of urging me to marry 
M. d’Aubibres, you would keep me for ” — 
She paused ; and Father Ragon asked, — 

“ I would keep you for whom } ” 

“ For one of your old pupils, who was re- 
duced to beggary, or who had gambled, or 
something of that sort. Yes, I have always 
noticed how these things go in Pont-sur-Sarthe, 
ever since I was big enough to know anything ; 


CHIFFON'S MARRIAGE. 


91 


and I have rejoiced because I did not have 
money. You Jesuits understand how to help 
your own. You are not shabby in your friend- 
ships.” 

Fearing that she had said too much, Chiffon 
glanced almost timidly at the Jesuit. Contrary 
to her expectations, his fine face, always serious 
and distinguished, had a softened expression. 
Looking with a certain kindliness at the child, 
he said : “ It seems to me that from what I 
know of you, these people who are not ‘ shabby 
in their friendships,’ as you say, ought to 
please you. You ought to like those who are 
ready to help others.” 

“ Yes, if it is one individual ; no, if it is a 
number of them.” 

Father Ragon was astonished, and looked at 
Chiffon without saying a word. This sixteen- 
year-old girl was the first thinking being he 
had met since he had been in Pont-sur-Sarthe. 
Seeing that the child, taking his silence as a 
dismissal, rose to go, he asked : — 

“ Are you much of a reader .? ” 

“ No, not much.” 

“ Have you thought a good deal about seri- 
ous things ? ” 

“ Sometimes, on horseback. Yes, especi- 


9 ^ 


CHIFFON’S MARRIAGE. 


ally when I ride I think about things; for 
then I can’t go to sleep, and I reflect then ; 
but it’s not intentional.” 

“And the result of your reflections is that 
you do not like our order?” 

“ That is it ; it does not seem like an order, 
a religious order, to me. Dominicans, Ma- 
ristes ; Capucins, and so forth, — I call those 
orders ; they concern themselves with God ; 
they preach ; they do what one expects of holy 
men; while you seem like some other kind 
of an association. You concern yourselves 
with marriages, with politics, with a little 
of everything, so that I am afraid of you ; 
and God knows, I am not afraid of many 
things ! ” 

“I assure you, my child, that we work for 
the good, for the salvation, of humanity.” 

“ For good upon this earth, I am convinced. 
But for salvation ? I don’t believe that inter- 
ests you much. Moreover, with you, human- 
ity means only fashionable people, as it does 
with my mother. I am sure of that.” 

“ I see that you are decidedly opposed to 
us. You are wrong, my dear child.” 

‘‘No more opposed to you than to the Free- 
masons, for example ; but I dislike all those 


CHIFFON’S MARRIAGE. 


93 


who group themselves together to oppress 
those who stand alone/’ 

“ This hatred may lead you a long way.” 

“A very long way. For instance, when as 
little child I went with my nurse to make 
purchases and heard the poor little shop- 
keepers on the side streets complaining, al- 
most crying, as they told how they could no 
longer do business since the larger shops 
in the Rue des Benedictins and in the Place 
Carnot had opened. When I saw these old- 
time shops close, one by one, when I heard 
that this one and that one had failed, I was 
dead against all those enormous shops which 
swallowed up the smaller ones ; and often 
at night when I have said my prayers I 
have cried to God with all my strength, that 
it would be a fine idea if he would sweep 
them all away in the night.” 

“ It was an abominable thought.” 

“Possibly — I don’t defend it — but I had 
it. You don’t suppose I told that to Uncle 
Albert and Aunt Mathilde, do you ? It would 
never have done. Oh, no ; I never told my 
ideas to any one in those days.” 

“ Nor in these, I hope ? ” 

“ Oh, yes ; now I tell all such things to the 
Abbe Chatel or to Uncle Marc.” 


94 


CHIFFON'S MARRIAGE. 


“Oh, surely,” replied the Jesuit with a 
strained smile. “ M. le Vicomte de Bray is 
a socialist ; or, at any rate, he stood for them 
at the last election.” 

“ No,” said Chiffon brusquely, for she al- 
lowed no reflections upon Uncle Marc, “ you 
are mistaken ; M. de Bray, who really is what 
you call a socialist, made no use of that fact 
to aid him in the election. He ran on an 
independent ticket.” 

“ And he failed.” 

It was the candidate of the Jesuit fathers 
who succeeded. 

Provoked, Chiffon replied : — 

“Yes, it took too much money to win.” 
Then rising, without waiting for the signal of 
the Jesuit, who had quite forgotten himself in 
listening to this droll little specimen of mod- 
ernity, so different from anything he had 
known up to that time, she added, somewhat 
sarcastically, “ But I ought not to detain you 
any longer ; you were in a great hurry ; and 
there are all of those ladies who must be in the 
chapel stamping their feet with impatience.” 

Father Ragon rose also ; and as Coryse 
retired to allow him to go out before her, 
he said with a courteous smile, — 


CHIFFON MARRIAGE. 


95 


‘^No; you are no longer a little girl; and 
you will, perhaps, soon be Madame la Du- 
chesse.” 

“ That would surprise me,” replied Chiffon, 
shaking her flying locks, which fell in waves 
below her waist. 

‘‘ I see no one waiting outside,” said 
Father Ragon. “You did not come alone, 
did you?” 

“Oh, no, I have not been brought up in 
the American fashion at all, — I have my 
nurse.” And pointing to old Jean, who, still 
asleep on the bench, had slipped almost to 
the ground, she said: “He is not a decora- 
tive object — my nurse.” 

When Chiffon was once more outside, she 
turned to look at the big chapel-clock, and 
murmured with a smile : — 

“ Half-past five. It is I who have kept 
them waiting, those grenouilles de Hnitier,^^ 


96 


CHIFFON M/IRRMGE. 


CHAPTER VI. 

They were at dinner when Madame de 
Bray entered the dining-room. They had 
long since given up waiting for her ; she sel- 
dom arrived punctually ; she gave as excuses, 
the races, calls, clocks that were behind time, 
and, in extremity, accidents to her carriage. 
As soon as she was seated, she said to Coryse 
in an unusually amiable manner : — 

“Well, were you pleased with Father Ra- 
gon ? ” 

“Oh, very well pleased,” replied the child 
carelessly ; adding, after a moment’s reflec- 
tion, “but I do not know whether he was 
pleased with me.” 

“ What did you say to him ? ” questioned 
M. de Bray, with vague uneasiness. 

“ Oh, a lot of things ; the conversation 
turned upon ” — 

“ I shall go and see him to-morrow morn- 
ing,” interrupted the marquise less amicably, 
“ and he will tell me what occurred.” 

“ But I can tell you just as well,” observed 


CHIFFON MARRIAGE. 


97 


Chiffon calmly, “ for in the first place nothing 
at all happened/’ 

“ Ah, that is surprising.” 

And why is it surprising ? ” 

“ Because you seem to be embarrassed.” 

“ I ? not at all ; why should I be embar- 
rassed ? ” 

“ I don’t know.” 

“ Neither do I ; you wanted me to go and 
talk with Father Ragon. I went; we talked ; 
and that’s all.” 

And there was nothing disagreeable ? ” 

“ No ; he is well-bred, almost too well-bred, 
and so am I, not too much so, but suffi- 
ciently. I thought that he did not approve of 
anything I said to him, and I am sure that 
nothing that he said convinced me ; so we are 
just where we were before.” 

“ Then,” said Madame de Bray, taking ad- 
vantage of the absence of the servant from 
the room, “ you have not yet decided to accept 
Due d’Aubieres ? ” 

“ I have decided not to marry him.” 

Turning to Uncle Marc, she added : — 

“ I will give him his answer this evening. 
You told me he was coming.” 

“ No ! ” cried the marquise, exasperated ; 


98 


CHIFFON’S MNRRIHGE. 


“ you shall not give him his answer this even- 
ing ; it is madness to refuse him thus, without 
reflection.” 

“ But I have reflected ! I haven’t done 
anything but reflect since yesterday. I re- 
flected until I thought I’d die.” 

“ But you will wait before giving the duke 
a definite answer ? ” 

“ Wait for what ? No ; I don’t wish to 
make him dance attendance any longer; it 
has lasted too long already.” 

“ I forbid you to speak to him to-day,” said 
the marquise imperatively, as she rose. 
Then, seeing that Chiffon was going up-stairs 
instead of into the drawing-room, she asked : — 
“ Where are you going ? ” 

^‘To my room.” 

“ You will remain here.” 

The child reddened, and replied distinctly : 
“ It’s all the same to me ; but if I stay I 
shall speak t(5 M. d’Aubieres as I ought to. 
I shall tell him that I have decided that I can 
never marry him — never ! ” 

“ Yoii are crazy.” 

You have often told me that.” 

“ Here he comes,” cried the marquise sud- 
denly, calling their attention with a gesture to 
the sound of the bell. 


CHIFFON MHRRIAGE, 


99 


“ So much the better ! ” cried Chiffon. “ I 
long to get this weight off my heart.” 

She went straight up to the colonel, without 
the least embarrassment, as he entered, and 
said : — 

“ M. d’Aubieres, I should like to speak to 
you. Will you come with me into the garden 
where we were last evening ? ” 

As they went down the steps, she added 
with a smile and in an undertone : — 

“ But you are not to kiss me.” 

He followed her obediently, deeply moved. 
Divining what she was about to say to him, 
before she had spoken, he questioned pathet- 
ically : — 

“ It is to tell me you do not want me, is it 
not ?” 

“Yes,” murmured Chiffon, troubled at the 
sorrow she was causing ; “ I have thought a 
very great deal since last evening, and I have 
decided that I cannot marry you ; but at the 
same time I am very fond of you. I like you 
with all my heart. It makes me miserable 
to say all these things to you; but it is 
better to say them before than after, isn’t 
it?” 

He said nothing. She could not see him 


lOO 


CHIFFON MARRIAGE. 


in the darkness ; but she felt that he was un- 
happyj and was saddened by it. 

“ I beg of you,” she implored, putting her 
hand gently on his arm ; “ you mustn’t mind. 
I am not worth it. In the first place, I am 
high-tempered, ignorant, not well brought up ; 
and then I could not be the wife of a colonel, 
there is nothing worldly about me ; I shall 
never know how to talk, or to receive, or to 
be nice to the people I don’t like, or to per- 
suade stupid people that I find them clever. 
I have not the womanly qualities. I am a 
savage, made to live alone with the flowers 
and the animals. Suddenly changing her 
tone, she exclaimed : — ■ 

“ Speaking of animals, where is Gribouille ? 
I have not seen him since breakfast. What 
if he should be lost ? ” 

And she flew away, running across the lawn 
in the direction of the stable. After a moment 
she returned, followed by Gribouille, who was 
jumping about her. 

“ Pardon me,” she said, quite out of breath, 
“ but I am so frightened about Gribouille. I 
ought not to have done it in the midst of 
a serious conversation; but it is just like 
me.’^ 


CHIFFON’S MARRIAGE. 


lOI 


As the duke made no reply, she asked, try- 
ing to penetrate the obscurity: — 

“ Are you no longer there ? 

“ Yes,’’ he murmured hoarsely ; “ I am still 
here.” 

He was sitting near the walk on a little 
mound. Chiffon went up to him, realizing 
that he could scarcely speak for the tears 
which choked him. 

“ What ! ” she said, deeply moved ; “ what, 
you are crying ” 

The thought had never occurred to her that 
this man, who seemed to her a giant, could 
be so affected. She sat down near him, sur- 
prised and distressed. 

Mon Dieu !” she said, ready to cry her- 
self. “ Mon Dieu I Mon Dieu ! ” 

She could find nothing else to say; she 
felt that she was horribly wicked and stupid 
for tormenting this very good friend of hers ; 
for deliberately causing him such sorrow. 
The idea that any one could suffer for her, or 
because of her, was odious to Coryse. She 
preferred a thousand times to suffer herself. 
Suddenly she said to herself, “ I am going to 
tell him what I have on my mind; then, 
afterwards, if he wants me just the same, \ 
will marry him.” 


102 


CHIFFON'S MARRIAGE. 


“Listen to me,” she said, in the ringing 
tones which moved the duke so profoundly. 
“ Listen to me, and understand me if you can. 
I will do my best to make you ; but it may 
not, perhaps, be very clear, for it is very diffi- 
cult to say; and if we were in the sunshine, 
if I could see you, and you could see me, I 
should never dare — never ! But first, I beg 
of you, do not weep ; it is horrible to me ! ” 

Then, as he made no reply, she kneeled 
before him with an abrupt movement, put her 
arms about his neck, and, kissing his poor, 
wet cheek affectionately, she said, with a voice 
of infinite supplication : — 

“ Please don’t ; and I promise you that I will 
do everything you wish — everything.” 

Pure and tender, and entirely forgetful of the 
night before, she clung to him. He repulsed 
her almost sternly. 

“No ! no ! do not touch me.” 

Astonished at first. Chiffon arose, murmur- 
ing sadly : — 

“ Ah, yes ! I see you are doing as I did 
yesterday.” 

Then timidly she sat down again near the 
duke without speaking. Trembling slightly, 
he went on : — 


CHIFFON marriage. 


103 


“ No ! do not think that, dear little Coryse ; 
it is because — you cannot understand — lam 
nervous — unfortunate — I hardly know what 
I am doing, or what I am saying — I had 
dreamed such a beautiful dream, and I have 
fallen from such a height.” 

Somewhat disturbed, she said : — 

“ If you have dreamed what you call such a 
beautiful dream, at least it is not my fault, is 
it ? That is to say, I have not allowed you to 
believe that I had any desire to marry you, I 
have not tried to make you care for me except 
as a good comrade.” 

“ No, certainly not.” 

“ For if I had done that, even without mean- 
ing to, I should be in despair ; for I think that 
to flirt with men, to make eyes at them and all 
that, in order to make them think that they 
please you, or that you desire to please them, 
when you don’t care at all about them, is 
abominable, yes, abominable ! It is what I 
see done around me all the time, and what I 
myself should never do.” 

“ You were saying just now,” said the duke, 
recovering himself gradually, “ that you were 
going to explain to me why you did not wish 
to be my wife.” 


104 


CHIFFON'S MARRIAGE. 


“ Yes ; but I am afraid to explain it to you. 
I do not know very much about life except 
what I can guess, and that is not much ; but 
I sometimes overhear conversations, whisper- 
ings, and when there are parties at home I see 
a good deal of flirting. I don’t mean among 
young girls ; young girls can do as they choose, 
can’t they, without any impropriety, since they 
are not married ? But I mean among married 
women. There are married women who de- 
ceive their husbands. I don’t know exactly 
how such things begin and how they end ; but 
they seem to me very bad.” 

“ Without doubt, they are bad.” 

“ Well, I am sure that if I should marry you 
I should deceive you.” 

‘‘ But,” stammered M. d’Aubi^res in aston- 
ishment, “ why are you so sure of that ? ” 

“ I am sure, as sure as one can be of those 
things, because, you see, up to the present 
time, I have never met any one in regard to 
whom I could say to myself, ‘ There is a man 
I should be glad to marry,’ And if after we 
were married I should one day say to myself 
in meeting some man or other, ‘ there, I 
should like to have married that man,’ imagine 
what a blow it would be ! How disastrous ! ” 


CHIFFON MARRIAGE. 




In spite of his sorrow, the duke felt like 
laughing ; but he replied in all seriousness : — 

“The sort of thing you describe has hap- 
pened to many women, who, instead of permit- 
ting themselves to think about the newcomer, 
have depended all the more on their husbands ; 
and if they were good husbands, as I shall 
be ” — 

“ I am sure of that,’’ said Chiffon with con- 
viction ; “ but do you think it is enough to be a 
good husband, if one has not a good wife ? ” 

“ And why would you not be a good wife, 
honest and true ? ” 

“ I should be — if I did not meet ” — 

“ Whom ? ” 

“The person whom perhaps I might never 
meet, but who certainly is not you.” 

Then, as M. d’Aubieres moved uneasily, she 
added : — 

“ Yes, I am very fond of you, I have told 
you that ; but I do not love you at all, not at 
all, as one ought to love one’s husband ; and I 
am positive that if the day should ever come 
when I should meet the one whom I could love 
like that, I should simply let myself go. But 
it is torture for me to tell you all this ; however, 
it would be still more so to marry you without 


io6 


CHIFFON MARRIAGE. 


telling you. If, after you know what it is that 
keeps me from saying ‘ yes,’ you still want me 
just the same, you have been warned, you 
would have nothing to reproach me with, and 
I, at least, shall not have been underhanded 
or deceitful.” 

“ I understand,” said M. d’Aubieres softly, 
“ that you would be very unhappy with me, 
and that I should be horribly unhappy to see 
you unhappy. I must give up what has been 
my only joy during the six months that I have 
been thinking constantly about it. You have 
very delicately and very picturesquely made 
me understand that I am an old fool.” 

“ You are angry with me,” said Coryse. ‘‘ I 
:^m sure that you are angry with me.” 

No ! I swear to you that I am not,” mut- 
tered the poor man, choked with emotion. He 
tried to rise, but seemed to be sinking into the 
earth. 

“What is the matter?” he exclaimed, sur- 
prised to feel that with each movement the 
earth seemed to give away beneath him. Gri- 
bouille, seeing him move, understood that they 
were about to go, and began to dance in front 
of them, barking furiously. The duke tried to 
support himself with his hand ; but it pene- 


CHIFFON’S MARRIAGE. 


107 


trated the soft earth, while his body seemed 
to sink deeper and deeper. 

“ I do not know where I am ! ” he said to 
Chiffon, who was standing in the driveway 
waiting for him. ‘‘ It seems to me I am sit- 
ting in a hole ; and the more I try to get up 
the more I can’t.’’ 

She extended her hands, and he lifted him- 
self with an effort ; but as she approached, she, 
too, felt the earth give way. 

“ What can it be ? ” she said, herself tread- 
ing on the spot which M. d’Aubieres had just 
left. Then she exclaimed with a laugh : — 

“ Ah ! it is the cemetery for the flowers ; 
you were sitting on it, and as I just buried 
some this morning, it is all damp.” 

“ The cemetery for the flowers ? ” 

“Yes, for the flowers ; do not speak of it at 
the house ; they would make fun of me. I know 
very well it is stupid ; but I love the flowers so 
dearly that I cannot bear to see them decay 
when they are dead.” 

It was true that since her earliest childhood 
Chiffon had had a cemetery where she buried 
her faded flowers. It was impossible for her 
to see them thrown into the street or upon 
brush heaps; the idea that a flower should 


io8 


CHIFFON MARRIAGE. 


touch anything that was not clean, that it 
should be trampled under foot, dragged along 
by dress-skirts, or swept up in the dust, was 
unbearable to her. In winter she burned them 
in the big fireplace in her room ; but in sum- 
mer, deprived of this resource, she buried them 
conscientiously and secretly in the back of the 
garden, fearing her mother’s scoldings and 
the ridicule of Uncle Marc. 

“ You will not tell, will you ? ” she repeated ; 
“ with the exception of Gribouille, no one 
knows it, no one ; and it makes me furious to 
have them make fun of me, and for this thing 
especially ; for I should feel that they were 
right; I know it is absurd.” 

' “You may be sure, Mademoiselle Coryse, 
that I will never speak to any one of the ceme- 
tery of the flowers ; poor little cemetery,” he 
added sadly, “I who can scarcely be com- 
pared to a flower, I, too, have been buried here 
this evening ; yes, quite buried.” 

“ Come, come,” said Coryse, “ you are not 
going over all that again.” 

“ No ! but will you let me go out by the little 
wicket gate; I prefer not to go back to the 
house with my eyes as big as my fist. I shall 
be ridiculous; besides, I am coming to see 
Marc to-n^orrow morning.’^ 


CHIFFON MARRIAGE. 


109 


“ You are fond of Uncle Marc ? ” 

‘‘ Very; he was one of my childhood friends.” 

Are you the same age ? ” 

“ He is three years younger than I.” 

“ It amounts to the same thing,” she said. 

“ The same thing ; yes, you are right.” 

But as he kissed for the last time Chiffon’s 
firm and supple little hand, M. d’Aubiferes 
thought : — 

“ No, it is not quite the same thing ; it is 
three years less.” 

When she returned to the drawing-room, the 
girl looked at Uncle Marc who was reading 
near a lamp, as though she saw him for the 
first time ; then, instead of answering M. and 
Madame de Bray’s anxious inquiries upon the 
disappearance of the duke, she thought : — 

“ Uncle Marc looks not three, but ten years 
younger, at least.” 


no 


CHIFFON MARRI/IGE. 


CHAPTER VII. 

The next morning Chiffon was lying on 
the lawn playing with Gribouille and waiting 
for her lesson hour, when Uncle Marc, coming 
up to her, said in a vexed tone : — 

“ Aubieres has gone ! ” 

She was startled. 

“ What ! gone ? Gone where ? ” 

“To Paris, to recuperate a little; he has 
need of it, poor fellow.” 

“ Oh,” said the child, “ you frightened me ; 
I thought he had gone forever.” 

“ Would that have grieved you ? ” 

“ I should think it would.” 

“ Aubi^res’s sorrow touched me ; but now 
that it is all over. Chiffon, I want to tell you 
that I think you did right.” 

“ I am glad of that. And papa ? ” 

“ And papa also.” 

“ Then all is for the best. Are you going 
to ride this morning ? ” 

“ No ; I have letters to write ; I have not 
told you, I have great news to announce. My 
Aunt Crisville is dead.” 


CHIFFON’S MARRIAGE, 


111 


“ Indeed/’ she said indifferently ; “ she is 
not my aunt, and I did not know her. You 
have hardly seen her, for that matter, since she 
has been living in the South.” 

“ I have not seen her often ; but I was her 
godson, and I have just learned that she has 
left me all her fortune.” 

“ All her fortune ! ” exclaimed Coryse ; “ why, 
she was the one they called Aunt Carabas ; she 
is so very, very rich.” 

“ She was so very rich, poor woman.” 

Chiffon threw her arms around uncle Marc’s 
neck, while Gribouille, mistaking her move- 
ment, leaped upon him. 

“ Oh ! how glad I am. I am so glad it is 
you. It will suit you so well to have a lot of 
money.” 

“ Let me alone, you strangle me,” said 
Marc de Bray brusquely, making an effort to 
free himself ; “ I have told you a hundred 
times that you are too large to hang about my 
neck like a baby.” 

“ Pardon me, I always forget. What are 
you going to do with all that money ? ” 

“ To begin with, I shall travel.” 

“Oh,” murmured the child, suddenly af- 
fected, “ are you going away, you too ? ” and 


Hi CHIFFON MARRIAGE. 


resting her head against uncle Marc’s shoulder, 
she began to cry softly. Then she said in a 
voice that was scarcely intelligible : — 

“ Forgive me, but I am unnerved. I don’t 
know what is the matter with me. Just now 
it was M. d’Aubieres who was fond of me, 
and went away, and now it is you.” 

Her tears increased, and she added : — 

“ You see, there are none too many of them, 
— of people who love me.” 

“ But, Chiffon, I am not going never to re- 
turn ; do not be uneasy. I am not going to 
make a tour of the world. France will suffice 
me. Besides, I have the spleen.” 

“ Why do you say ‘ spleen ’ instead of home- 
sickness ? You need not be ashamed to call 
it that. I hate to hear you speak Fnglish.” 

“I see with pleasure that you are feeling 
better. Chiffon. Scold me as much as you 
wish, only laugh ; that is all I desire.” 

“ You will now be able to go on with 
politics. This is money that arrives betimes ; 
there is yet a month before the election ; you 
have time to defeat the Jesuit’s pupil, who lies 
to the workmen, who lies to the world, who 
lies all the time. Yes, you will defeat him ; 
that is one thing that will give me pleasure.” 


CHIFFON'S MARRIACB. 


113 


“ Will it be on account of interest in me, or 
antipathy for my rival ? ’’ Marc asked with a 
laugh. 

“ Both. As for charity, I think you will do 
a great deal of that, you, who gave such heaps 
when you were not rich.’^ 

“ How do you know ? ” 

I know your poor people ; and when I go 
to visit them, they talk to me of you all the 
time. That’s why I go to see them. Other- 
wise I might as well choose those who did not 
know you.” 

“ How does it happen if they speak to you 
of me, that they never speak to me of you ? ” 

“Because I forbid it. I say to them, ‘If 
he knows that I come here, that there was 
danger of his meeting me here, you would 
never see him again, never, because he hides 
his gifts, as another would his thefts.’ That 
is true, isn’t it ? ” 

“ What a droll child you are ; if your mother 
knew ” — 

“Ah, apropos^ does she know of your in- 
heritance ? ” 

“ Yes.” 

Chiffon began to laugh. 

“Her nose will be out of joint; for while 


CHIFFON'S MARRIAGE. 


114 


she has always pretended to believe that Aunt 
Carabas would leave her fortune to charity, 
she had hoped in her inmost soul that you 
and papa would get it. Now that only half 
of what she hoped for has come true, and 
that not the best half, she will be in such a 
state of mind ! ” 

Then, returning to the subject which inter- 
ested her most, she asked sorrowfully : — 

“ Are you going away at once, tell me ? ” 

‘‘ For a few days, on business ; but I shall 
return soon.” 

“Yes, do; you have barely time for the 
elections ; I shall be your propagandist. Poor 
Jean, how he will have to go about on foot 
and on horseback.” 

Then seeing the count laugh, she went on, — 
“You are wrong if you are making fun of 
my propaganda. I am very popular, even 
if it does not seem so. How I shall rejoice 
over all those people who do not like you, 
and there are a great many of them in Pont- 
sur-Sarthe. I don’t know how it is in Paris, 
for during the three months that we were 
there, I did not know what you were doing, 
or whether you were liked or not ; while here 
it is different ; I know all that is going on.” 


CHIFFON MARRIAGE. 


115 


“ And what have you discovered ? ” 

“ With the exception of a few friends, every- 
body detests you.” 

“There is no reason why they should.” 

“ Yes ! it is your own fault. You live alone ; 
and in Pont-sur-Sarthe they do not pardon 
that; nor do they elsewhere, for that matter.” 

“ But I do not live alone.” 

“Yes, you do; you scorn visits, dinners, 
clubs, balls, mass, garden-parties, Madame 
De Bassigny’s Tuesdays ; you scorn every- 
thing that bores you, and I don’t blame you 
for it; only you must not think that is the 
way to make yourself popular.” 

“ Yes, I am a bear ; it is all wrong.” 

“ Why wrong ? what does it matter to you ? 
Because now, whatever you do, you will be 
adored. They will want to marry you. Tell 
me, your inheritance is not a secret, is it ? ” 

“ No ! I shall not cry it from the house- 
tops ; but I shall not be sorry to have it 
known.” 

“That is strange,” said Chiffon, surprised; 
“you are always so indifferent to the effect 
you produce. Why do you wish to have it 
known that you have become rich ? ” 

“ Simply because I do not wish to have it 


ii6 


CHIFFON MARRIAGE. 


said, when it is known that I am spending 
a great deal of money for my election, that 
I am supported by any committee whatever. 
Going into politics in that way is distasteful 
to me; I consider it contaminating.” 

“ I hardly know what committee would sup- 
port you, anyway, because you have your own 
ideas, and are attached to no party.” 

“ That is true ; but they would accuse me of 
it just the same.” 

“I suppose that would be just as bad,” 
said Coryse with a queer look in her eyes. 

I am going off to amuse myself this morn- 
ing. What time is it .? ” 

Uncle Marc looked at his watch : — 

“ It is quarter of nine.” 

“Then I have time if I hurry.” With all 
her strength she called, “ Jean ! ” 

The old coachman appeared at the door of 
the stable, whither he always returned from 
force of habit, as soon as his little mistress 
had no further use for him. 

“ Be quick and dress yourself ; we are going 
out at once — we must hurry — I want to be 
at the Place des Girondins in ten minutes.” 

Coryse called out to one of the maids, “ Has 
Madame la Marquise gone out ? ” 


CHIFFON'S MARRIAGE. 


117 


“ No, Mademoiselle.” 

“Then it’s all right,” murmured the child. 
“ I was afraid she would be there before 
me.” 

Throwing a kiss to Uncle Marc, she dis- 
appeared, laughing. 

A quarter of an hour later Chilfon rang at 
the Jesuits’ gate. 

“ Is this the hour when Father Ragon says 
mass ? ’ ’ she asked of the man who acted as 
doorkeeper. 

“Yes; but it is about over, it is almost nine 
o’clock.” 

Instead of entering the chapel, Coryse re- 
mained in the garden. She walked to and 
fro, a graceful figure in her blouse of pale pink 
batiste, her bright face framed in a big leghorn 
hat covered with roses. With her eyes on the 
door of the little church, she thought joy- 
fully : — 

“ He will go first to the sacristy ; but as 
there is no other exit, he must come this way. 
I cannot miss him. In the meantime the 
ladies will all arrive and I shall announce my 
news to several. How amusing it will be ” — 

The door of the chapel closing with a heavy 
sound made Coryse turn her head, and she 


CHIFFON’S MARRIAGE. 


iiS 


saw little Barfleur who was coming from mass. 
He had on a blue waistcoat, very short and 
tight, and trousers with large parti-colored 
checks. His enormous necktie came up so 
high in the back that it almost completely 
concealed the collar of his shirt. In this cos- 
tume he looked to Chiffon more sickly and 
stunted than ever, — at the same time he was 
not bad looking, but was rather distinguished 
in spite of his slender form, and his pro- 
nounced manner of dressing. The child was 
walking toward him, ready to say ‘ Good- 
morning ; ’ but when he saw that she was alone 
he bowed with extreme correctness without 
stopping, and taking a position about fifty feet 
away, seemed also to be waiting for the close 
of mass. 

“ He is looking for Madame Delorme,” 
thought Chiffon, who had guessed for a long 
time that Madame Delorme, the very pretty 
wife of a notary in Pont-sur-Sarthe, found little 
Barfleur very much to her taste. Shortly 
afterwards Madame Delorme appeared, and 
the young man approached her with a look of 
surprise, as though he had no idea of meeting 
her there. 

“Mass cannot be over,” thought Chiffon; 


CHIFFON ’S MARRIAGE. 


119 


“ they have come out ahead of the others in 
order to have a chance to talk.” 

Seeing this pretty woman leaning over to 
look at the poor ungainly creature, who came 
barely to her shoulder, she thought : — 

“ How strange it is ! M. Delorme is a hun- 
dred times nicer. What can she see in little 
Barfleur ? He has neither intelligence nor 
charm ; he is a miser and a blockhead. It 
can only be the prestige of pedigree ; for what- 
ever one may say, that still counts, even with 
those who pretend to despise it. There is 
Madame Delorme leaving first; he will join 
her outside, and they will have another little 
chat in the courtyard or in the park, as if by 
chance.” 

She followed with her eyes the fine retreat- 
ing figure of the young woman with her small 
waist and her large hips, and said to her- 
self : — 

“ It must be pleasant to be pretty ; I should 
like to be pretty myself.” 

Madame de Bray had so often told Coryse 
that she was ugly and ungrateful that the 
child sincerely believed it. 

A murmur of voices interrupted her reflec- 
tions ; Madame de Bassigny was coming out 


120 


CHIFFON’S MARRIAGE. 


of the chapel accompanied by the two or three 
women who usually made a little court about 
her. 

“ Aha/’ thought Coryse, “ here is my chance 
to spread the news.” 

She stepped slowly toward the group with 
bowed head, completely absorbed, apparently, 
in the contemplation of a little pebble which 
she was rolling along by pushing it with the 
toe of her boot. 

“ Ah I here is Mademoiselle Chiffon ! ” cried 
Madame de Bassigny. “ How are you, my 
dear ? ” 

“ Very well, Madame,” replied Coryse, who 
saw at once they were watching her closely. 
She was exciting a good deal of curiosity at 
this time. The story of the offer she had had, 
and of her refusal, and of M. d’Aubieres’s de- 
parture, was already in every one’s mouth. 
Some one had met him at eight o’clock in the 
morning in a cab, with a trunk ; this Madame 
de Bassigny had discussed with her compan- 
ions on her way to mass, expressing great 
astonishment that this penniless girl should 
refuse a duke with an income of twenty-five 
thousand livres. They were jealous of the 
poor little thing ; and were irritated, not only 


CHIFFON'S MARRIAGE. 


T2I 


because of the offer she had had, but because 
of her refusal. 

How shall I let them know of Uncle 
Marc’s inheritance?” repeated Chiffon to her- 
self. “ It is not easy ; it must appear to come 
about naturally.” 

“ I am doubly pleased to meet you, Ma- 
demoiselle Coryse,” said Madame de Bassigny 
amiably, for I will beg you to give to your 
mother an invitation which I was going to ad- 
dress to her when I return home. I want her 
to dine with us a week from Thursday, with 
you and M. de Bray, and also M. Marc, if he 
will consent ; though I scarcely dare to hope he 
will do us that honor.” 

Chiffon seized the chance which offered, 
and looking intently at Madame- de Bassigny 
in order to follow every change in her ex- 
pression, she answered : — 

My uncle scarcely ever dines out ; but in 
any case he cannot be with you on Thursday, 
because he is going away.” 

“ With the Due d’ Aubi^res ? ” questioned 
the colonel’s wife maliciously. 

Chiffon did not appear to understand, and 
answered calmly : — 

“ No, quite alone ; his Aunt de Crisville i$ 
dead.” 


122 


CHIFFON’S MARRIAGE, 


“Oh, she died at Pau, I suppose?” inter- 
rupted Madame de Bassigny ; and turning to- 
ward one of the ladies who was with her, she 
said : — 

“ You were thinking of buying a chateau ; 
Crisville will certainly be for sale ; the eleva- 
tion is too high for a hospital or an orphan- 
age.” 

Everybody in Pont-sur-Sarthe firmly be- 
lieved that Madame Crisville would leave her 
fortune for charitable purposes. 

“ Oh, no,” said Chiffon innocently ; “I do 
not think my uncle will sell Crisville ; on the 
contrary, I think he will live there ; he in- 
herits everything, you know.” 

“He! What! M. de Bray?” gasped Ma- 
dame de Bassigny dumfounded. “But your 
aunt must have left five or six millions.” 

“ She is not my aunt ; and she leaves more 
than that,” asserted Chiffon with assurance ; 
although she was in total ignorance of the 
amount of the fortune. 

“ More than that ? ” repeated Madame de 
Bassigny, astounded and annoyed. 

People were beginning to come out of the 
chapel. She bade farewell to Coryse, and 
advanced to meet the crowd, anxious to 


CHIFFON MARRIAGE. 


1:23 


spread the news. From a distance Chiffon 
saw with delight the look of consternation 
on the faces of those to whom Madame de 
Bassigny was speaking. 

“ They are thunderstruck,” she thought. 
“ I am glad I came.” Suddenly she bounded 
toward the chapel. She had just seen Father 
Ragon, who was walking along at an even 
gait. 

“ I mustn’t let hint get hold of it.” She 
walked rapidly up to him, and asked po- 
litely : — 

“Will you permit me to say a few words 
to you ? ” 

Then, as the Jesuit cast an uneasy glance 
at the others who were waiting for him, she 
said : — 

“Oh, it will not take long. Yesterday I 
chattered too much.” 

“ Oh, no, my child ; on the contrary, you 
surprised and interested me.” 

“ You are very kind ; but I know I did 
wrong to speak of my uncle and his politics ; 
and I am here to-day to ask you not to men- 
tion this to my mother, who is coming to see 
you.” 

“I assure you,” said Father Ragon dryly, 


124 


CHIFFON MMRUGF. 


“that you exaggerate the importance of your 
conversation.” 

“ Not so; for I gave you to understand that 
my uncle would not run this time against M. 
de Bernay because he had no money ; but 
now he is going to run because he has got 
some.” 

“Ah,” said the Jesuit warily; then, for- 
getting the precepts of discretion and pru- 
dence which usually guided his least actions, 
he asked pointedly : — 

“ And how did he get it ? ” 

“ Because he is the sole legatee of his Aunt 
de Crisville, who died yesterday.” 

Father Ragon stood with half-open mouth 
in utter astonishment. 

Old Madame de Crisville was one of his 
congregation before she was obliged by ill- 
health to live in Pau ; and he had arranged 
for her, down to the minutest details, a dis- 
position of her property by which the Jesuits 
had not been forgotten. And now this old 
lady had died, far from his influence, neglect- 
ing to keep the promises obtained from her 
with so much difficulty, and leaving her for- 
tune to whom ? To an out-and-out socialist, 
already pretty well off ; to a dangerous man. 


CHIFFON MARRIAGE. 


125 


whom she was all unconsciously arming for 
the struggle against everything she ought to 
have respected and upheld. 

At length he inquired, speaking rather to 
himself than to Chiffon : — 

“ Is it an enormous fortune ? ” 

“ Enormous,” repeated the child. 

With rapid intuition the Jesuit had an idea 
that possibly Coryse was making fun of him ; 
but as he glanced toward her he saw her 
smiling at his side, and looking so simple and 
indifferent, that he was reassured. Suddenly 
the thought came to him that this Chiffon, 
upon whom up to this time not the least at- 
tention had been bestowed, was about to be- 
come a real heiress. 

The affection of the Vicomte de Bray for 
his brother’s step-daughter was well known in 
Pont-sur-Sarthe. It was known that he loved 
Coryse d’Avesnes, not only as a niece, but as 
his own child. Taking the paternal tone, 
Father Ragon said to Coryse : — 

“I am delighted at the good fortune God 
has sent you ; for I see the hand of God in 
this. Yesterday through an excess of delicacy, 
on account of a scruple, a fear of not being a 
sufficiently good wife, you repulsed the Due 


126 


CHIFFON'S MARRIAGE. 


d’Aubieres, who had asked for your hand, and 
was willing to accept you without fortune ; and 
to-day God rewards this conduct by placing 
you in a position where you can choose accord- 
ing to your own heart.” 

“ But,” said Chiffon, not guessing what the 
Jesuit was driving at, “ I cannot see why I am 
enabled to choose according to my own heart, 
merely because my uncle inherits a fortune, 
even admitting that my heart has a desire to 
choose.” 

“ It is quite clear, nevertheless,” murmured 
Father Ragon, “that the Vicomte de Bray will 
give a fine dot to the child whom he regards 
almost as his own. He is an old bachelor, 
without near relatives.” 

She began to laugh. “ Ah ! that is it ; you 
think that all of a sudden I have become a 
desirable match. I had already been think- 
ing that M. d’Aubieres’ offer had given me a 
higher value. Since it occurred, I notice that 
people look at me with respectful curiosity. 
How will it be now? Honor, money, every- 
thing for me ! I shall be quite changed.” 

While she was speaking, the Jesuit, observ- 
ing little Barfleur, who was still standing under 
the trees, exchanged with him an affectionate 
sign of recognition. 


CHIFFON'S MARRIAGE. 


177 


“ That is Hugh de Barfleur,” he said, point- 
ing out the young man to Chiffon ; “ one of 
my old pupils.” 

She answered without enthusiasm : — 

“ I know ; I am acquainted with him.” 

“ He is one of the faithful,” continued 
Father Ragon. “ He attends mass here every 
day ; he has a beautiful soul ; he does only 
what will be pleasing to God.” 

“ I don’t know,” exclaimed the child, almost 
in spite of herself ; “ I wonder if it is as pleas- 
ing to God as you seem to think, for M. de 
Barfleur to come here to flirt with Madame 
Delorme.” 

The Jesuit made a gesture of sincere sul 
prise and indignant protestation. He had 
suspected nothing, but this unseemly remark 
shed a new light upon a thousand details 
hitherto unnoticed. Anxious to ward off sus- 
picion, and also to serve his old pupil, he re- 
plied in the most insinuating manner : — 

“ Not only are such remarks out of place 
from the mouth of a young girl, but you are 
lacking in perspicuity, my child. Hugh de 
Barfleur cannot be interested in the person 
you mention, not only because his principles 
protect him from that sort of temptation, but 


128 


CHIFFON MARRIAGE. 


also because I have every reason to believe 
that he is interested elsewhere.” 

“ Indeed ! ” said Coryse absent-mindedly. 

“Yes; the poor fellow is quite smitten. I 
believe he is in love with a young girl, who 
up to this time has not paid the least attention 
to him.” 

“A young girl?” queried Chiffon, aston- 
ished, and trying to think who it could be. 
“A young girl? I never heard anything 
about it.” 

Then with a sudden illumination she burst 
out laughing, and said : — 

“ With me, perhaps, lucky girl ! ” Then look- 
ing at the Jesuit with admiration, she said, 
“ One can see that you are losing no time.” 

Father Ragon glanced at her with a smile 
on his lips, but with a hard look in his eye. 

She excused herself, saying : — 

“ I beg your pardon for laughing, but it is so 
funny. According to your plan, the money 
which will be a detriment to M. de Bernay 
would at least benefit M. de Barfleur, and 
would still be kept in the hands of the 
Jesuits.” 

“Mademoiselle d’Avesnes,” said the Jesuit, 
in a cutting tone, “ your mother is right when 


CHIFFON MARRIAGE. 


129 


she says that you are not a well-bred young 
girl.” 

“ Right to think so, possibly, but not to say 
so,” said Chiffon gently, with a bow to the 
father as he left her. She looked about for 
old Jean, and discovered him motionless upon 
a bench. Mechanically she pursed up her 
lips, but stopped herself, thinking : — 

“ Oh, Mon Dieu ! I almost whistled as I 
sometimes do at home. What an effect that 
would have produced.” 

When she left the Jesuit’s she began to run, 
forgetting the servant who was hobbling pain- 
fully behind her ; she wanted to tell the good 
news to the Abbe Chatel, sure that he would 
take real pleasure in it. At the corner of the 
Place du Palais, a flower vender was stationed. 
Chiffon took some roses, and ran with them 
all the way to Saint Marcien. 

If the parsonage of the cathedral was not 
magnificent, that of Saint Marcien was piti- 
ful, a little hovel next to the old Basilica 
in a dark, dirty alley. At the left of 
the hovel was a small garden, not at all 
one’s idea of a curate’s garden. The Abbe 
Chatel, who adored flowers, had transformed 


130 CHIFFON’S MARRIAGE. 


the poor little spot into a fragrant mass of 
bloom. 

The servant had gone to market, and the 
abbe himself opened the door for Coryse. 
He held in one hand a preserve pot filled for 
the moment with paste, and in the other an 
enormous brush which had lost most of its 
bristles. 

“ I beg your pardon for receiving you in 
this way,” he explained to Chiffon, who bade 
him a joyous “ Good-morning,” “ but I was past- 
ing the parlor paper ; ” and he showed her the 
narrow strips, which, loosened by the mois- 
ture, hung all along the wall. The room 
w^as sparsely furnished with six cane chairs, 
an easy-chair with a broken seat, a fine old 
clock of rare and elegant design, and a statue 
of the Virgin in alabaster, which hung on the 
wall above a pedestal, upon which stood a 
vase. 

“ I have brought you some roses for your 
Virgin,” said Chiffon, putting the flowers in 
the vase; “but they must have some water 
immediately.” 

“Yes ; in a moment.” 

“ No, now ; in this heat it would be cruel to 
make them wait ; and it cannot be the wish of 


CHIFFON'S MARRIAGE. 


131 


the Virgin that anything should suffer for her 
sake.” 

“ True,” said the priest amiably ; and went 
to fill the vase at a little pump in the garden. 

As she watched him, Coryse said to her- 
self;— 

“He is not nice to look at. With that 
ruddy, kindly face under his white hair, he 
looks like a tomato in cotton ; but I like 
him as he is, because he is so good. He 
busies himself with the poor and with his 
God. He ignores scandal, intrigues, flirta- 
tions, and all other worldly things.” 

When the abbe returned, she cried gayly : — 

“Monsieur TAbbe, I am perfectly happy.” 

“ Then there is a change since yesterday,” 
he said, very much pleased. He had picked 
up the roses, and with his big, awkward hands 
was arranging them with infinite care. When 
this was done, he came and sat down opposite 
Coryse. 

“ Monsieur TAbbe, Uncle Marc has sud- 
denly become very rich.” 

“ How is that, my child ? ” 

“ He has not robbed a coach ; don’t imagine 
such a thing. He has fallen heir to Madame 
de Crisville’s fortune.” 


132 


CHIFFON'S MARRIAGE. 


“ She is dead, then ? '' 

Naturally, Monsieur TAbbe.” 

“ Oh ! the poor woman ; she was so gener- 
ous, so good to the unfortunate.’^ 

“ Uncle Marc will be as good as she was ; 
you will see how much we shall all get for our 
poor people.” 

“ God grant that it may be so, my child.” 

“ But,” she said, not quite pleased, “ one 
would think that you doubted it.” 

“ I do not doubt it exactly, no ; but it would 
not be surprising if M. Marc were less in- 
terested than his aunt in religious matters ; he 
is young.” 

“Young!” exclaimed Chiffon, astonished. 
“ Uncle Marc young ? ” 

“ Why, certainly ; he is not old.” 

“ I don’t say that he has one foot in the 
grave ; but neither is he young, for he is only 
three years younger than M. d’Aubieres, and 
he is quite old. He left this morning,” she 
added, with a sigh of satisfaction. 

“ Left ? ” 

“Yes; but not for always; he is coming 
back. But never mind. Monsieur I’Abbd, if I 
had known that you wouldn’t have been any 
more enthusiastic than this, I should not have 


CHIFFON MARRIAGE. 


133 


dragged my poor Jean here in such a heat. I 
should have left you to learn the news with 
the rest of the world.” 

“ But, my child, you do not understand ; I 
am delighted at the good fortune which has 
come to your uncle, and also at the pleasure 
it gives you.” 

“ That is better ; but I must go — it is almost 
noon.” 

As Chiffon went home in the broiling sun, 
the Abb^ Chatel murmured as he once more 
arranged the roses at the foot of the Virgin in 
the parlor: ‘‘ O God, protect this child who 
loves you ! O God, grant her happiness ! ” 


134 


CHIFFON'S MARRIAGE. 


CHAPTER VIII. 

“ Do you know,” said Chiffon to Uncle 
Marc, when he returned after two weeks’ ab- 
sence ; “ that every one is incensed at you ? 
Your letter to the voters has caused a regular 
upheaval in Pont-sur-Sarthe.” 

It is a matter of indifference to me,” was 
the reply. 

“ Yes, I know ; but I am tired of hearing 
people harp upon the subject ; all the old 
bores who are in the habit of coming here go 
on about it. I don’t know why I say old, for 
the young ones are quite as bad, and my 
mother too. Only the day before yesterday, 
she came home in such a state because she 
had read your manifesto, which is posted about 
town.” 

“ What did she say ? ” 

“ She made a scene with papa — a really 
beautiful scene ; more so than usual.” 

Poor Pierre,” said the vicomte, laughing. 

“Tell me. Chiffon,” questioned Uncle 
Marc, “what sort of an existence do you 


CHIFFON'S MARRIAGE. 


135 


think I should lead here under these circum- 
stances ? ” 

“Under what circumstances ? ” 

“ You tell me that your mother is furious 
with me ; she will probably treat me like a 
dog." 

“ Oh, no.” 

“ Oh, yes ; she hasn’t hesitated to do so 
already, and now the election is still another 
grievance." 

“ Yes ; but, on the other hand, there is your 
fortune. If she is vexed because of your poli- 
tics, she will be delighted because of your in- 
heritance ; you know how she values money. 
Have you settled the estate ? " she asked after 
a pause. 

“ Very nearly." 

“ And you are rich ? " 

“ Very." 

“ So much the better ; for M. de Bernay will 
make a strong fight, and you must look out 
for him." 

“ What do you know about it ? " 

I have been told." 

“ By whom ? " 

“ By the workmen at the blast furnace." 

Uncle Marc began to laugh. “You’ve 


136 


CHIFFON’S MARRIAGE. 


been talking with the workmen in the blast 
furnace, have you ? Poor Aubieres is right ; 
you are certainly a strange little woman.” 

“ Have you seen M. d’Aubieres ?” 

“Yes.” 

“ When is he coming back ? ” 

“ He will be back for the races.” 

Breakfast was announced. 

Madame de Bray entered the room like a 
whirlwind. Smiling and eager, she almost 
ran up to her step-broLher, saying : — 

“ My dear Marc, I have just this instant 
heard that you had returned ; I am delighted 
to see you again; we all miss you so much 
when you are not here ; don’t we. Chiffon .? ” 

The marquise was never cordial to her 
step-brother, and never called her daughter 
“Chiffon” except when there were strangers 
present whom she wished to impress. 

Marc looked at her in surprise, as he caught 
the sly look of his niece, who was laughing 
behind her mother’s back. 

“ Have you seen Pierre ? ” inquired Ma- 
dame de Bray. 

“Yes; he was here when I arrived.” 

“ Has he told you of the terrible effect 
which your letter to the electors has pro- 
duced?” she asked, smiling. 


CHIFFON’S MARRIAGE. 


^31 


“ He did not mention it.” 

“ Well, my poor Marc, you have no idea of 
the disagreeable talk connected with your 
name.” 

Since my name is also yours, I must beg 
your pardon.” 

Don’t mention it ; I have decided upon 
my course ; at first I was dismayed, absolutely 
dismayed, was I not ? ” she said to her hus- 
band as he entered. “ But now I am recon- 
ciled to the scandal caused by Marc’s posters, 
and have taken a brave stand.” 

“ You have said so, at least,” replied M. de 
Bray without conviction. 

As they went into the dining-room. Chiffon 
murmured in Uncle Marc’s ear : “ All serene, 
isn’t it ? I told you so — the fortune ! ” 

“ Coryse,” said the marquise, as they seated 
themselves, “ I do not know whether I re- 
membered to tell you that we are to dine at 
the Barfleurs on Saturday.” 

“ No ; but you never tell me when you are 
to dine out.” 

“ You are invited.” 

“ It does not matter to me, as I shall not go.” 

“ Why shall you not go ? ” asked Madame 
de Bray, with some embarrassment. 


CHIFFON'S MARRIAGE. 


\ 2 >^ 


“ Because I never go to these dinners ; and 
it has been agreed that I shall not go out 
until the winter after I am eighteen ; that will 
be in two years.” 

“ But this is not going out.” 

“ It is dressing, exhibiting one’s self, and 
being bored; and that’s what I call going 
out. ” 

“ I have accepted for you.” 

“ You should not have done so, because you 
have promised me that, until I am eighteen, 
I shall not be obliged to appear at these 
affairs except at home ; moreover, I do not 
see why I should dine at the Barfleurs, and 
not at Madame de Bassigny’s, where I was 
invited for this evening. She gave me the 
invitation in person in the garden of the Jes- 
uits. You remember she invited you, too, 
Uncle Marc ; saying at the same time that 
she dared not hope that you would do her the 
honor of accepting.” 

“ Which proves that she has some lucid mo- 
ments. I should never think of going to 
Madame de Bassigny’s ; but now in any case 
I can go nowhere because I am in mourning.” 

Chiffon cast an amused glance at her moth- 
er’s gown — a mauve gown so indefinite in 


CHIFFON MARRIAGE. 


139 


tone that one could scarcely be sure whether 
it was mauve or pink. 

“ Oh,” said the marquise, it is only a three 
months’ mourning, and two weeks have already 
gone by; and, my dear Marc, I want to ask 
you, would you mind if we should have a ball 
here on Sunday in race week ? ” 

‘‘Not at all, provided I do not have to 
appear.” 

“ But if you did not, it would seem like a 
reflection.” 

“ I don’t know what it would seem like ; 
but I shall not appear at a ball a month after 
the death of an aunt who has left me her 
property. It would be in decidedly bad taste, 
not to say heartless ! ” 

The marquise replied pointedly : “ As we 
have not the same motives for denying our- 
selves, and as I am counting on giving this 
ball for Coryse ” — 

“ For me ? ” exclaimed the girl in astonish- 
ment; “for a girl who detests society, and 
who does not know how to dance, correctly? 
A ball for me — Heavens ! ” 

“ It is that you may learn how to carry 
yourself in society, and to cultivate a taste 
for it.” 


CHIFFON'S MARRIAGE. 


i4o 


“ Come, now, this will deceive nobody, this 
tale of a ball to be given for me. Every one 
knows that I count for very little in this house, 
and that what is to be done is not done for me.” 

“ You are not only ungrateful but imperti- 
nent,” announced Madame de Bray, in tones 
which seemed to vibrate in her very eyebrows. 

“ Not at all,” replied Chilfon peaceably ; 
“but I think it would be better to tell the 
truth to Uncle Marc and to outsiders as well. 
This ball is to astonish the natives by intro- 
ducing them to the prince.” 

Marc de Bray asked, with surprise, “ What 
prince ? ” 

“Oh, surely,” cried Coryse, “you don’t 
know; you have just come back. We have 
have had a prince in Pont-sur-Sarthe for the 
last ten days, a real one, not made of paste- 
board — a prince who will actually reign if his 
father is not deposed.” 

“ And his name ? ” 

“ Count d’Axen when he travels.” 

“ And what is the Count d’Axen doing here ? ” 

The marquise was about to reply; but Chif- 
fon did not give her time. 

“ They don’t exactly know ; they say that he 
is here to review some troops or to perfect 


CHIFFON'S MARRIAGE. 


141 


himself in French, which he speaks better 
than any of us.” 

^‘What sort of a fellow is this prince.?” 
asked the vicomte, for the sake of saying 
something. 

“He is charming,” replied Madame de 
Bray promptly ; and Chiffon just as promptly 
interposed : — 

“That is a matter of taste. He is a little 
fellow, about up to your knees, and is as black 
as the ace of spades. M. Carnot is blond 
beside him. Then to hear him called ^ Mon- 
seigneur * and ‘ Your Highness ! ’ You can 
imagine how delicious it is.” 

“ They address him as they should address 
him,” interrupted Madame de Bray, who saw 
that a storm was brewing, and wished to cut 
short the discussion. 

“ Oh, I find it quite natural,” said Coryse, 
“ and I address him that way myself ; only it 
amuses some people, and some people it 
doesn’t. For my part, humility is not my 

rbur 

Of all the numerous weaknesses in the char- 
acter of the marquise, the one which was 
most disagreeable to Coryse was her arro- 
gance with her inferiors, and her complacency 


142 


CHIFFON MARRIAGE. 


toward the great. Often, after having been 
perfectly crushing to a servant or a workman 
with the superiority of her wisdom, a superi- 
ority which her daughter refused to acknowl- 
edge, Madame de Bray would complain of the 
stupidity of those whom she called ‘‘hirelings.” 
Chiffon, amused, but at the same time an- 
noyed, would say with a laugh : — 

“ If he had the qualities which you demand, 
he would probably be an ambassador instead 
of a servant.” 

It was perfectly natural to Coryse to be 
respectful to princes if chance threw them in 
her way, but she could not understand any 
one’s running after opportunities to meet 
them. She hated conventionalities, and pre- 
ferred to be alone, or with her equals. It 
seemed to her that when a modern prince 
tried to forget that he was a prince, it was an 
excess of zeal to be constantly reminding him 
of his position. From the moment of the 
count’s arrival at Pont-sur-Sarthe, the mar- 
quise had been floating in a sort of heaven, 
and was immensely flattered because “ His 
Highness” had called. “His Highness” had 
been introduced by M. d’Aubieres, who, sev- 
eral years before, had been military attachd in 


CHIFFON MARRIAGE. 


143 


the little kingdom where his father reigned. 
While Madame de Bray was in Paris she 
had been compelled to run hither and thither 
in order to meet certain much-sought-after 
princes, who had shown her but a poor return 
for all her efforts. At Pont-sur-Sarthe, cut off 
as she was from any court and from the cere- 
monies for which she felt herself peculiarly 
fitted, it seemed as though heaven itself were 
opened before her when she broke the seal of 
the letter in which the colonel announced the 
arrival of this hereditary prince. For once 
she had completely eclipsed all Pont-sur- 
Sarthe, for the Count d’Axen had no acquaint- 
ances save the four generals, the major, and 
the Lord Mayor. She had no pity for Ma- 
dame de Bassigny, her best friend ; and when 
she hinted at a wish to be presented, Madame 
de Bray said indifferently : — 

“ It is very tiresome not to be able to ask a 
few friends to meet Monseigneur, but he re- 
fuses to make any acquaintances.” 

It was merely because she did not wish to 
lose hold of the prize which had so fortu- 
nately fallen into her hands. There were many 
very pretty and very elegant women in Pont- 
sur-Sarthe. It was to be feared that the 


144 


CHIFFON MARRIAGE. 


prince, once launched, would prove unfaithful 
to the Bray mansion ; but he finally forced the 
marquise to depart from her resolution. One 
evening when he was calling, he said to M. 
de Bray : — 

“I beg you to take me, if it is possible, to 
the ball at the Chateau Barfleur.” 

“To the ball, what ball?” suddenly asked 
the marquise. 

“ A ball which will probably be given the 
Sunday in race week. I heard it mentioned 
this evening in the restaurant where I dined. 
It is not yet certain — but ” — 

“ But,” exclaimed Madame de Bray impa- 
tiently, “the Barfleurs cannot give a ball on 
that day, for we are to give one ourselves ! ” 
As there had never been any talk of a ball, 
Chiffon and the marquis looked at each other 
completely taken back by her coolness ; but 
Madame de Bray was not in the least embar- 
rassed by their presence. She went on, ad- 
dressing herself to her husband : — 

“ It is so, is it not ? We chose that day long 
ago ; they cannot take it from us.” 

And the next day she sent out the invita- 
tions. If she herself gave the ball which 
should introduce “ His Highness,” she would 


CHIFFON’S MARRIAGE. 


HS 


have the honor of showing that she had been 
the first to know him. 

Fearing that the conversation might take an 
unpleasant turn, the marquis tried once more 
to change the subject. 

“ If Chiffon is not to dine at the Barfleurs’ 
on Saturday, some word ought to be sent,” 
he said. 

The marquise replied in a decided tone : — 

“ She will dine there.” 

“ I could not, even if I wished to,” ex- 
plained the child quietly ; “ I have no gown.” 

“ What, no gown ? What do you mean ? 
Where is your Pompadour gown ? ” 

“ Two years ago I had a so-called evening 
gown, a muslin with sprigs of flowers, which 
you speak of as my ‘ Pompadour gown ; ’ but 
as I have grown two heads taller in two years, 
and as it has not grown with me, it is now 
above my ankles.” 

“ It can be lengthened.” 

It has been lengthened three times already 
— there is no more cloth.” 

“ How is it that you never have anything to 
wear ? ” 

‘^With five louis a month to dress on, im 


146 


CHIFFON'S MARRIAGE. 


eluding my shoes, my gloves, my hats, my 
habit, and all, it is not easy to get gowns,’’ 
cried Chiffon, very much angered. 

“ Order whatever you like,” interrupted M. 
de Bray, “ and send the bill to me.” 

“ Thank you, papa ; I will have a little white 
gown made for the Prince’s ball then.” 

In a sharp, threatening tone the marquise 
said : — 

“ I forbid you to speak of it as the Prince’s 
ball. Am I to understand that you are com- 
ing to this dinner, or not ? ” 

“ No, I am not,” protested Chiffon. 

“ In that case you must ride over and tell 
Madame Barfleur that you cannot dine there 
Saturday ; that you are to dine at your Aunt 
de Launey’s on that day ; and that I did not 
know it when I accepted for you.” 

“Yes,” replied Coryse laughing; “I am to • 
tell a little tale, in which everybody is mixed 
up, — you. Aunt Mathilde, Uncle Albert, and 
everybody.” 

“ Will you excuse me,” she said, rising from 
the table, “ if I go to Barfleur ? and if I wish 
to be back for my lesson, I must hurry.” 

“Yes,” said the marquise majestically, “for 
this once I will allow you to leave the table 


CHIFFON MARRIAGE. 


147 


before the end of the meal ; only do not 
imagine that it constitutes a precedent.” 

“ I am perfectly willing to sit here till the 
end,” said Chiffon, inwardly angry ; “ I don’t 
care about going over there ; nor, if I go, 
about being back for my lesson, so I will stay 
where I am. It will be much simpler to send 
Jean with a note. For that matter,” she 
added, with an amused look in her eye, 
“ why should I go ? It seems very strange that 
I should.” 

“ You are going,” ordered the marquise, her 
wrath gradually rising. 

“ No, I would rather not ; you must have 
some idea back of sending me off on an 
errand like that to the Barfleurs’.” 

“None at all,” said Madame de Bray, 
blushing. 

Once more the marquis tried to smooth 
things over. 

“ Come, Chiffon, do go, since you see your 
mamma wants you to.” 

“H’m,” said Coryse, trying to give her 
step-father a warning nudge under the table. 

It was too late ; the marquise had heard the 
fatal word ‘mamma,’ which, applied to her 
always exasperated her. 


148 


CHIFFON'S MARRIAGE. 


“ Really,” she said to her husband, “ really ” 
— and then to Coryse, “ Go at once, and do 
what I have told you to do. Do you hear ? ” 
“Yes,” said Coryse, folding her napkin 
with exasperating deliberation ; and as she went 
out she muttered between her little pointed 
teeth : “ Oh, if only M. d’Aubieres were not 
quite so old.” 


CHIFFON’S MARRIAGE. 


149 


CHAPTER IX. 

When she arrived at the chateau de Barfleur, 
a large building of brick and granite of the 
time of Louis XV., Coryse saw the Vicomtesse 
de Barfleur at a window, standing by a long 
table, very much occupied in covering some 
pots of jam. Her work absorbed her to such 
an extent that she did not hear the horses 
pass. Chiffon, whose first idea had been to 
go up to the window and deliver her message 
without going in, decided, on second thoughts, 
that that would not be sufficiently polite, and 
so dismounted at the stable, where she was 
told the viscountess was at home. 

She was ushered into the billiard-room, 
where she had to wait for what seemed to her 
a very long time. As she walked up and 
down the great bare apartment, without a 
picture, without an ornament, without a flow- 
er, she said to herself indignantly : — 

“ Well, must I wait until Mother Barfleur 
covers all her jam-pots before she will receive 
me.?” 


CHIFFON'S MARRIAGE. 




At length the servant reappeared : — 

“Will Mademoiselle d’Avesnes come this 
way ? I was looking for the viscountess in 
the park, and all the time she was in the draw- 
ing-room.” 

“ No ; she was in the pantry, but probably 
doesn’t want me to know it,” Coryse thought, 
as she trotted after the servant through a 
long, dreary suite of rooms. 

“ Br-r-r ! ” she said, almost shivering. “ It’s 
not at all amusing here. Father Ragon and 
Mother Barfleur deceive themselves if they 
think that I am going to marry the young 
man. I believe they do think so. Oh no, no, 
no!” 

The servant took Coryse into a small recep- 
tion-room, which was a little more comfort- 
able and a little better furnished than the rest 
of the chateau. Seated near the window, her 
tall, slender form clad in a gown of dark red 
foulard, was the viscountess, apparently occu- 
pied in reading “ Le Gaulois.” 

^‘It is not surprising that I have had to 
wait,” thought the child. “ The gown she had 
on was gray, and she has slipped into one 
of her very best frocks to receive me. She 
dresses up for Chiifon, now that Uncle Marc 
has suddenly become rich 1 ” 


CHIFFON'S MARRIAGE, 




“ My dear child,” said the viscountess, rising 
to meet Coryse, “ what good wind has blown 
you here ? Then, without giving her time to 
answer, she added, how pretty you are in 
your habit ! ” 

“ Pretty,” murmured Chiffon, looking at her 
long arms and hands, and her as yet undevel- 
oped figure ; that is not what they tell me at 
home.” 

“ Yes ; pretty and charming ! ” said Madame 
de Barfleur, not in the least disconcerted. 
She pulled at the long band of old tapestry 
which served as a bell-rope. “ I want to send 
for Hugh. He would be in despair to miss 
this nice little visit. He has gone to see his 
horses in the big pasture on the river-bank.” 

“ Pray, do not, Madame,” said Chiffon has- 
tily, “ I must go. I have a lesson at four 
o’clock.” 

The servant entered. 

“ Send for M. le Vicomte.” 

“ I only came,” said Coryse, “ to say to you, 
that when my mother told you that I would 
come with her on Saturday, she forgot that I 
was to dine that day at my aunt’s.” 

“What,” said Madame de Barfleur, “im- 
possible ! We cannot get along without you. 


152 


CHIFFON MN FRINGE. 


Arrange it with your aunt, or let me do 
so.” 

Chiffon did not answer ; she was listening 
with a smile to the big bell which they were 
ringing wildly to call the young master, and 
thinking, “It will take him a quarter of an 
hour at least to get up here from the river, 
and in five minutes I shall be gone.” 

“ I beg of you, my dear girl,” insisted the 
viscountess, “promise me some way to come. 
You will be the life and joy of the dinner.” 

“ I } ” interrupted the child in astonishment. 
“ I ? When I am ill at ease I can’t say three 
words.” 

“ And why should you not be at your ease, 
my dear ? ” asked Madame de Barfleur. 

“ I beg your pardon,” exclaimed Chiffon, 
blushing ; “ that was a break — I meant to 
say, that wherever I go I am ill at ease, be- 
cause I have no confidence in myself; and 
you see I have reason to feel this way.” 

“No, you are a charming young girl, very 
simple and very frank.” 

Coryse rose, saying, “ I must go ; I must 
get back home.” 

“You will wait a moment, won’t you, to 
have a little lunch first?” 


CHIFFON'S MARRIAGE. 


153 


‘‘ Thank you, Madame ; I am already late/^ 
The viscountess rose too ; and when Chif- 
fon begged her not to distress herself, re- 
plied : — 

“ Yes ; I wish to see you on horseback ; my 
son tells me that you are adorable on a 
horse.” 

“ It must be true,” thought Chiffon. 
“ They all seem to agree.” 

Just as old Jean brought the horses to the 
steps, the Vicomte de Barfleur appeared. He 
took the hand that Chiffon extended, and 
bowing respectfully, touched it with his lips. 

Not accustomed to this sort of greeting, she 
could scarcely help laughing. Then compar- 
ing the manner of both mother and son with 
their manner of two weeks before, her heart 
sank, and she thought almost out loud : 
“ What poor stuff these people are made of ! ” 
As Coryse stepped up to Josephine, the big 
high-bred mare she always rode, the viscount 
rushed forward clasping his two hands, and 
held them out to assist her to mount. She 
looked at the delicate young man from head 
to foot, and said to herself : — 

“ He would surely let me slip ; ” then, with 
the most gracious manner she could assume, 


154 


CHIFFON'S MARRIAGE. 


she replied, pointing to old Jean who was 
holding the horses : — 

“ No ; but would you instead hold the 
other horse for a moment? I am very awk- 
ward; I can only mount with Jean. I should 
fall with you, and you can’t imagine how 
heavy I am, — heavy as lead.” 

She placed the tip of her boot in the hand 
of old Jean, and fairly flew into the saddle ; 
then, bidding farewell to mother and son, she 
rode olf. 

As soon as they had left the park, Chiffon 
turned into the woods. She was longing for a 
gallop in the beautiful green paths, for she 
needed to quiet her perturbed spirits. 

Would they never let her alone for a mo- 
ment? It was barely two weeks since they 
had tried to force her to marry M. d’Aubibres, 
and now it was little Barfleur. This troubled 
her, not only because of the new struggle she 
had to undergo, but because it wounded her 
self-respect. 'She had been grateful and flat- 
tered by M. d’Aubieres’ offer ; by that of M. 
de Barfleur she should feel humiliated. As 
long as she had had no fortune, he had only 
paid her the attention that a well-bred young 


CHIFFON'S MHRRIAGE. 


iSS 


man pays to a young girl whom he meets in 
her parents’ home. This ungainly fellow 
seemed hideous to her, with his enormous 
mustache, and his thin legs, crooked, as the 
result of poor riding. Strong and healthy 
herself. Chiffon had an instinctive horror of 
thin, sickly people. 

As she rode towards Pont-sur-Sarthe, she 
thought : “ He is perfectly disgusting to me ; 
if he should ever kiss me, as M. d’Aubieres 
did, I should slap his face. I couldn’t help 
it. There will be a great row if I refuse 
again ; I must manage in some way, so that 
the refusal shall come from the Barfleurs. 
Oh, that wretched Father Ragon ! it is he who 
has concocted this affair ; I was right in fear- 
ing the Jesuits.” 

The road before her gleamed white in the 
sunlight. 

It will be awful to ride in this heat to 
Pont-sur-Sarthe,” she thought ; “ I will try the 
path behind the blast furnace. There is not 
much smoke at this hour; and I think Jose- 
phine will not mind it.” 

At a turn in the path she suddenly per- 
ceived at some distance above her, on a side 
path which came down between the woods 


CHIFFON MARRIAGE. 


156 


and the forge, a horseman who had stopped to 
talk to some workmen who were sitting on 
the ground at the edge of the forest. 

“ Ah ! she cried, turning to old Jean, “ I 
am too late for my class. There are the 
workmen at lunch ; it is four o’clock. See ! 
that looks like Count d’Axen.” 

“Yes; Mam’selle Coryse, it is.” 

The path was a winding one, so Chiffon lost 
sight of the group ; but shortly after, as she 
came nearer, she plainly heard their voices. 

“Yes,” the prince was saying in the pleas- 
ant tones which she recognized at once. 
“Yes; this profession of faith is wholly com- 
mendable ; and if I were a voter here, I should 
not hesitate to give my vote to the man who 
wrote this manifesto.” 

Here Chiffon came to a sudden turn in the 
path. 

“Is it you, Monsei — ” she cried; then she 
stopped, with a feeling that perhaps he would 
prefer not to hear his title mentioned here. 
With a glance he thanked her, and replied : — 

“Yes, Mademoiselle; it is 1.” 

“ Here, sir,” said one of the workmen, 
laughing, “ here is a young lady who is of 
your way of thinking.” 


CHIFFON MARRIAGE. 


157 


What’s that?” asked Coryse. 

This gentleman’s been a-tellin’ of us that 
in our place he would vote for M. de Bray.” 

“ I should think so,” said Coryse, “ unless 
you want to re-elect M. de Bernay.” 

“No, no; we have no use for him; but we 
don’t jes’ like M. de Bray having a title.” 

“ He does not like it either,” said Chiffon ; 
“ but it’s not his fault.” 

“Why does he sign his posters ‘Vicomte 
de Bray ? ’ ” 

“ Because it’s his name. Would you prefer 
to have him resort to trickery, to present him- 
self as other than he is ? ” 

With a glance at the empty bottles, the 
cheese, and the Bologna saugages that lay 
scattered on the grass. Chiffon said : — 

“It looks as though you had been having 
a lunch.” 

One of the workmen, a dark, hairy fellow, 
rose, and, pointing to Count d’Axen, said : 

“ It’s his treat, because we held his horse 
while he went to the forge, otherwise ” — 

Old Jean, hot and tired, was gazing long- 
ingly upon the bottles ; and Coryse, noticing 
him, said to one of the men : — 

“If you want to be kind, you will give 


CHIFFON’S MARRIAGE. 




him a glass of something, for he is very 
warm.” 

The workman seized a bottle, and attempt- 
ing to excuse himself, said, “ If w^e did not 
offer him some, it was because we did not 
dare, seeing that you were around.” 

“ Come, Jean, and have a drink.” 

“ I sha’n’t refuse,” he said, looking highly 
pleased ; “ it’s the sort of a day that makes 
one thirsty. You must be thirsty, too. Made- 
moiselle Coryse.” 

“Would you have a glass? Don’t let us 
stand in the way,” said the workman who 
held the bottle. 

“I should like one,” said Chiffon, putting 
out her hand. 

“ Wait a minute, for you I must rinse the 
glass.” He ran to a pump near the forge, 
and came back asking : — 

“ Will you have beer or wine ? ” 

“ Wine.” 

She held up the glass, saying : — 

“ Your health.” 

The workmen rose : — 

“We ought to drink to his health,” said 
one of the men pointing to Count d’Axen. 

“ I propose to drink to the health of the 
political candidate.” 


CHIFFON'S MARRIAGE. 


159 


“That’s right,” cried Coryse gayly, “to 
Uncle Marc’s health.” 

“ Oh ! are you the niece of M. de Bray ” 

“ Yes,” said Chiffon, looking at the prince, 
who was laughing to himself. 

“ We know you well,” continued the work- 
man ; “ but we did not know your name. All 
the little kids in the town know her,” he con- 
tinued, turning toward Count d’Axen. “ Ma- 
demoiselle always has money in her pockets 
for them. At Christmas-time she bought 
them a whole box of playthings which filled 
the carriage. They had more than they could 
break. If all rich people were like her, and 
you, sir, things would be better; but there 
are those who won’t believe poverty exists ; I 
know lots like that.” 

“So do I,” said Chiffon involuntarily, think- 
ing of her mother. “ Are you going on to 
Pont-sur-Sarthe, Monsie — Monsieur ? ” she 
asked, turning to Count d’Axen. 

“ Yes ; will you permit me to go part of the 
way with you ? ” 

“ Certainly ; only it will be better to take 
the path through the woods ; this one is too 
full of rolling stones.” 

When they had disappeared among the 


i6o 


CHIFFON MARRIAGE. 


trees, Coryse heard the workingman’s voice 
explaining : — 

“ I have an idea that those two are lovers.” 

She turned to the prince, laughing. 

‘‘ They are speaking of us. Monseigneur.’’ 

He bowed courteously. “ I regret that they 
are mistaken.” 

“ You regret it ? What a fine thing polite- 
ness is. Imagine me a reigning princess. 
Can you ? What would you do with me ? 
and what would I do with you ? ” she added, 
after a pause. 

He began to laugh. 

“ How old are you. Mademoiselle Coryse ? ” 

“I was sixteen in May; and you. Mon- 
seigneur ? ” 

“ I shall be twenty-four in about a week.” 
Seized with a sudden scruple, he said : “Tell 
me, does your mother permit you to ride with 
young men ? ” 

“ Oh, no, indeed ; but you are a sovereign ; 
and a sovereign is not a young man ; that 
does not count.” She blushed and continued, 
stammering : — 

“ That is — I mean to say — that it counts 
too much to count.” 

Then wishing to change the subject, she 
said : — 


CHIFFON MARRIAGE. 


i6i 


“ Tell me, Monseigneur, are you not afraid 
that you will be picked up and carried off to 
the frontier, if you, a foreigner, do this sort 
of thing — take sides with the politics of the 
opposition ? ” 

“ Oh ! I take sides in a mild sort of 
way. I merely tell the workmen that if I 
were in their place I should vote for your 
uncle.” 

“All the same, in your place I should be 
afraid. I wish M. d’Aubieres were here ; he 
would tell you what you could and could not 
do ; you seem a little new at all this.” 

“ You take an interest in me, then ? ” asked 
the prince, laughing heartily. 

“ Yes and no.” 

“ That is something. It is strange how mis- 
taken one can be. I could have sworn — I, 
who have what are called intuitions — not 
only that you were not interested in me, but 
that I repelled you.” 

“And it was true,” cried Coryse frankly, 
“ until a little while ago ; but all at once it 
struck me that you were a fine fellow.” 

“ Then we are friends } ” 

“ Yes, yes, Monseigneur ; I beg your par- 
don, I have not addressed you politely ; I 


i 62 


CHIFFON’S MARRIAGE. 


have not said, ^ Monseigneur ’ often enough, 
and never ‘ Your Highness 

“ Don’t mention that ; and now that we are 
friends, won’t you tell me why we were not so ; 
that is, why you were not, for I assure you 
I have never felt any repulsion.” 

“ Yes ; I will tell you. I dislike foreigners 
instinctively, and I detest Protestants ; and as 
you are both, you see ” — 

“ I understand. What have you against 
foreigners ? ” 

“ I don’t like their not being French ! ” 

“ And against Protestants ? ” 

“A lot of things. I find them scheming, 
false, hypocritical, and all sorts of things; 
though, naturally, I recognize that there are 
exceptions.” 

“ Naturally — myself in the first place.” 

She laughed. 

“ Not you alone ; others too ; but I speak 
of the mass of Protestants, — French Protest- 
ants, I mean, for they are the only ones I 
know.” 

“ Now that I know the sort of aversion that 
I inspired, I can imagine that you took me 
for a spy.” 

Oh, no. Monseigneur ; not that,” 


CHIFFON'S MARRIAGE. 


163 


Returning to the subject which interested 
her, Chiffon said : — 

“ All the same, it is extremely kind of you 
to work for Uncle Marc’s election.” 

“ You have no reason to be grateful, for I 
confess to you that the conversation you over- 
heard was the result of mere chance. Those 
men had looked after my horse while I visited 
the forge. I did not know which one had held 
him, and feared that if I gave a single piece 
of money I should bring down a storm upon 
my head. So I went to the inn on the high 
road, and had a lunch sent to them. They 
offered me a drink, and I talked to them of 
the candidates whose manifestos are posted 
on the forge buildings ; so you see that my 
propaganda amounted to very little.” 

“At the same time, it served its purpose. 
You will soon see how nice Uncle Marc is. 
Now that he is back, I am sure you will find 
the house much less dull.” 

“ But I have never found it that,” protested 
the prince. 

“ Come now, you can’t make me believe that 
you have not been bored there. But how is 
it. Monseigneur, that Uncle Marc’s socialistic 
proclamation does not shock you; for you 
know he is a socialist?” 


164 


CHIFFON^S MARRIAGE. 


“ And so am I.” 

“ You mustn’t say much about it in Pont- 
sur-Sarthe ; it might have bad results. What ! 
you a socialist, Monseigneur ; will you not find 
it awkward in your position ? ” 

“ I hope not ; but if I do, I’ll give up the 
succession. It will be easy for me ; I have six 
brothers. And were you on an electioneering 
expedition when I met you. Mademoiselle 
Coryse ? ” 

“ No ; I had been to the Barfleurs’ on an 
errand.” 

M. de Barfleur is a very thin little man ; 
isn’t he?” 

He is, indeed.” 

“ And he affects the English manner ? ” 

“The English manner of Pont-sur-Sarthe, 
— yes.” 

“ Has he a fine chateau ? ” 

“ Fine enough ; but it belongs to his mother.” 

“ Is she agreeable ? ” 

“Not at all; she is a small, slender woman, 
who poses constantly. She is majestic, and 
affects melancholy. You would suppose she 
had just had a great misfortune. I am 
always longing to call her ‘the unfortunate 
princess.’ I do not mean to be unkind, or 


CHIFFON MARRIAGE. 


165 


to make fun of them ; but I cannot bear the 
Barfleurs.” 

“ Is there only the mother and son ? ” 

“ Heavens ! that is enough.” 

“ I suppose I shall meet them at the ball 
which your mother is going to give ? ” 

“ You certainly will ; but what is that to 
you?” 

“ I am curious to see them. After Parisian 
society, which I know a little, provincial so- 
ciety ” — 

“ Much good may it do you ! If you could 
only know how paltry it is, and how gossipy 
and superficial. And you are above all that.” 

“ But I am above nothing.” 

“ Outside of it, then, if you prefer. Mon- 
seigneur, perhaps it will be better not to men- 
tion that we had this ride together.” 

Oh, do you, too, fear the gossips ? ” 

“ Not at all ; but I am afraid that my mother 
would send me away if she knew it.” 

“ What ought I to do ? ” 

“ Say nothing about it ; and I will not men- 
tion it unless I am asked about it; and as 
they won’t ask ” — 

“ It seems quite improbable that any one 
should guess at this encounter of ours.” 


i66 


CHIFFON *S MARRIAGE. 


If they should do so, we will acknowledge 
if’ 

“ Agreed.” 

“ And now we must separate. Before we 
leave the woods, I want to ask your pardon 
for all my mistakes, Monseigneur.” Then, 
laughing, she added, “And I bid your High- 
ness a most respectful adieu.” 

The prince held his hat aloft, and, laughing 
in his turn, replied : — 

“ My most profound respects. Mademoiselle 
Chiffon.” 


CHIFFON MARRIAGE. 


167 


CHAPTER X. 

For a week Chiffon could not take a step 
without meeting little Barfleur. He called 
several times on the pretext of errands for 
his mother ; and one evening, coming into 
the drawing-room just before dinner, Coryse 
found him installed between M. and Madame 
de Bray. She had seen him drive up in his 
cart about six o’clock, but supposed that he 
had gone ; so she started in amazement when 
she saw him. 

“M. de Barfleur has consented to stay to 
dinner with us,’’ said the marquise, who seemed 
to be in fine humor. “We will take him home 
this evening when we go out to drive.” 

During the summer, M. and Madame de Bray 
drove regularly after dinner, taking Chiffon 
with them, much to her disgust. Seated in 
the landau opposite her parents, she scarcely 
dared to smile ; and sat quiet and bored, — as 
she always was in the presence of the mar- 
quise, — always expecting the scene that she 
feared. 


CHIFFON’S MARRIAGE. 


i6S 


When Marc de Bray entered, his face ex- 
pressed so much astonishment at the sight of 
little Barfleur, that Coryse began to laugh ; 
and as her mother started towards the dining- 
room on the arm of the viscount, Coryse said 
to Uncle Marc, who seemed vexed and an- 
noyed : — 

“ You did not expect this, did you ? ” 

Without noticing the anxious look on his' 
brother’s face, Marc answered : — 

“ Is he considered one of the family now ? ” 

“ Not yet,” said Chiffon, laughing ; “ but he 
hopes to be.” 

Uncle Marc stood still. 

“ What do you mean 1 ” he asked abruptly. 
Pushing them before him, M. de Bray said 
imploringly, but in an undertone : — 

“ Go on, children ; go on.” 

“ Why this delay ? ” said the marquise 
sharply ; then, pointing to little Barfleur, “ M. 
de Barfleur is waiting.” 

From the time dinner began, the Vicomte ‘ 
de Barfleur, who sat opposite Coryse, looked 
at her with a persistence amounting to poor 
taste. The girl, who was very near-sighted, 
did not notice it ; but Marc de Bray found it 
extremely irritating. This irritation became 
so apparent, that Chiffon finally asked; — 


CHIFFON MARRIAGE. 


169 


“What is the matter with you to-night, 
Uncle Marc? You seem to be so grumpy.” 

“ Nothing,” he said ; “ I have a headache.” 

But in spite of his pretended headache, he 
began to talk to his niece, and did not again 
give her a chance to turn her head away from 
him. 

Displeased with this proceeding, which 
seemed to her unseemly, the marquise tried 
several times to bring Chiffon into the gen- 
eral conversation ; but in vain. Unable to 
obtain anything by strategy, Madame de Bray 
decided to take the bull by the horns. 

“ Coryse, your manners are very bad ; you 
are making too much noise ; one cannot hear 
one’s self think.” 

The child stopped in the middle of a sen- 
tence, and did not speak again. 

“ But I do not forbid you to speak — to 
answer M. de Barfleur.” 

Sweetly and politely. Chiffon replied : — 

“ M. de Barfleur only talks about hunting 
and racing ; and they are things I detest, and 
know nothing about.” 

“ What would you like to talk about, 
Mademoiselle ? ” asked little Barfleur impres- 
sively. 


170 


CHIFFON MARRIAGE. 


In the same modest and submissive tone, 
she answered : — 

“ About nothing, Monsieur ; I get on very 
well without talking at all.” 

“One would not have thought it a few 
minutes ago,” remarked Madame de Bray 
sharply. 

“ It is true ; I was noisy ; I beg your par- 
don,” answered Chiffon; and dropping her 
eyes, she stared at her plate, and did not 
speak during the rest of the meal. 

Later, after she had served the coffee in 
the billiard-room. Chiffon went out and sat 
on the veranda in a big wicker chair, and 
watched the stars, which looked very pale in 
in the twilight sky. She was interrupted by 
her mother, who came out with her hat on. 

“What! you are not ready? The carriage 
is here ; you are the most hopelessly thought- 
less girl ! ” 

“ Bah I ” said the child, not stirring. “ Go 
on without me ; I will be ready when you 
come back to look for what you have for- 
gotten.” 

Uncle Marc burst out laughing and M. de 
Bray turned his head to conceal the smile 
which he could not restrain. The marquise 


CHIFFON'S MARRIAGE. 


171 


turned purple with rage, and asked threat- 
eningly, “ What do you mean ? ” 

“ I mean that every night you come back to 
look for something that you forget ; and to- 
night,” she added in an undertone, ^‘you will 
be more apt to come twice than once.” 

She referred to one of her mother’s little 
ways ; one of the weaknesses which the mar- 
quise thought no one perceived. 

Fond as she was of luxury, display, and of 
all that, in her opinion, would dazzle the pub- 
lic, Madame de Bray had finally after great 
effort succeeded in persuading her husband to 
make a change for her sake in his carriages 
and liveries, which had been very pretty, and 
very simple, so long as they had been se- 
lected by him. The new landau, which was 
dark blue with red wheels, and with an enor- 
mous coat-of-arms embossed upon it, was 
absurd for all useful purposes. But the mar- 
quise was never so happy as when she was 
going from one end of Pont-sur-Sarthe to the 
other in this striking equipage ; and she com- 
pelled Coryse to accompany her, because when 
she did not come, they drove in the victoria, 
and the victoria was a most modest affair. 
When Madame de Bray could pass by the 


172 


CHIFFON MARRIAGE. 


restaurants in the Place du Palais, lying back 
in her showy landau, with its harness of shin- 
ing plate, its chains, its rings, and its armorial 
bearings, her joy was at its height. At six 
o’clock and again at eight, the tables which 
filled the sidewalks, almost driving foot-pas- 
sengers away, were over-flowing with people. 
Then the officers and fashionables of Pont- 
sur-Sarthe met at Gilbert’s, the small restau- 
rant, or at the Cafe Perault. Instead of 
letting her coachman take a good, though 
somewhat deserted, macadamized street, 
which led directly out of the city, Madame de 
Bray gave orders for him to drive past the 
restaurant, on a road paved with horrible 
little shiny, slippery stones ; and often, as they 
turned into one . of the streets which led 
away from her favorite quarter, she would 
stop him suddenly, and order him to return to 
the house. Chiffon was only too familiar 
with her. “ Ah ! Mon Dieu ! I have forgotten 
my parasol again,” or “ my wrap,” or “ my 
muff,” or “ my handkerchief ; ” which com- 
pelled them to drive a second, and some- 
times a third, time past her dear caf6. 

She had a perfect horror of these exhibi- 
tions ; and when she saw the curious faces in 


CHIFFON’S My4RRMGE. 


173 


the crowd turned toward the carriage, when 
she heard the clanking of the officers’ sabers, 
and the click of their spurs as they rose to 
greet them, she dropped her eyes, and said 
to herself : — 

“What fun all those people must make of 
us in their secret hearts!” and she raged in- 
wardly at being obliged to share in the small 
maneuvers which made her mother so ridic- 
ulous. The marquis and his brother had not 
been blind to all this, but they had never 
spoken upon the subject; so Chiffon’s reply 
surprised and amused them. 

The marquise turned perfectly white, and 
walking up to her daughter, so close that her 
lips almost touched her small, impertinent 
nose, asked, — almost hissed, — “ Why do you 
think we will return twice rather than once 
this evening ; why ? ” 

“Because,” replied Coryse, first assuring 
herself that little Barfleur, who was pretending 
to look for his hat at the other end of the 
drawing-room, could not hear them, “ because 
this evening you have some one to exhibit to 
the populace.” 

While she was speaking, it occurred to her 
that she should soon have to pass all those 


^74 


CHIFFON’S M/1RRMGE. 


people, seated by the viscount’s side in the 
dark blue landau. It was all that would be 
needed in Pont-sur-Sarthe to give the impres- 
sion of their engagement, and that Coryse 
wished to avoid at any cost. She had never 
considered herself of any importance until 
now. In her own eyes she was still a child, 
whom no one took seriously. M. d’Aubi^re’s 
offer and Father Ragon’s insinuations had 
taught her that she was now a young lady 
who was loved by the one, and whom the pro- 
tigk of the other was pretending to love. 
Without giving her mother a chance to make 
a scene, Chiffon added : — 

“ Don’t trouble yourself about me ; I shall 
not go out ; I am tired.” 

“ It is not true ; you are never tired.” 

“ Very well, then, it is a pretext. In either 
case, I am not going out this evening.” 

“ You shall go. Go and put on your hat.” 
As Chiffon did not stir, her mother seized 
her harshly by the wrist. The child broke 
away with an effort, and said gently : — 

“ It is absurd, you know, — this little family 
scene, — before a stranger.” 

The marquise turned toward M. de Barfleur 
with an attempt at a smile, “ Oh ! M. de Bar- 


CHIFFON MARRIAGE. 


175 


fleur is almost one of the household,” she 
said. 

“ That may be,” replied Chiffon with a de- 
sire to define the situation ; “ but he is not 
almost one of the family ; and one of your 
favorite proverbs is that one should wash 
one’s linen ” — 

“Good, good.” 

Then, after a silence during which the 
marquis and the viscount, their overcoats on 
their arms, and canes in their hands, awaited 
the signal for departure, the marquise said 
graciously : — 

“If I insist upon your going with us, it is 
because it is not proper for you to stay at 
home alone.” 

“ I always do ; besides, I am not alone, be- 
cause Uncle Marc is here.” 

“ But he will probably go out.” 

“You know very well, my dear sister-in- 
law,” replied Marc de Bray dryly, “that I 
never go out in the evening.” 

“ Then I put Coryse in your charge.” 

Shrugging his shoulders. Uncle Marc re- 
plied somewhat nervously : — 

“ I will take good care of her, and will try 
to keep her clean, and not let her play with 
the fire,” 


176 


CHIFFON'S MARRIAGE, 


As little Barfleur bent over the hand which 
Coryse mechanically extended to him, and 
kissed it languidly, Marc took his niece by 
the arm and whirled her around, saying, — 

“ Come, Chiffon, let us go in.” 

When they were alone in the little reception- 
room, Coryse said gayly : — 

“We had quite a rumpus, hadn’t we ? And 
yet they did not need me to-night, since there 
was a third to compel them to use the landau.” 

As she saw her uncle seating himself by the 
lamp, and undoing a bundle of newspapers, 
she added, “ If you have anything to do, don’t 
feel obliged to stay with me.” 

“ I was about to say the same to you.” 

“ It does not matter to me whether I do my 
tapestry here or elsewhere; but when papa 
goes out in the evening, you usually work in 
your own room.” 

“True,” he replied, laughing ; “but on those 
evenings, which in winter are almost all the 
evenings, you were not given into my special 
care as you were to-night.” 

Coryse took up a large piece of silk tapestry 
covered with animals and strange warriors, 
which she was copying from a piece of Bayeux 
tapestry, and came and sat near Uncle Marc. 


CHIFFON'S MARRIAGE. 


T77 


After a moment he paused in his reading, 
looking over his paper at the little fluffy head 
leaning over the embroidery. 

“ Chiffon,” he said suddenly, “before dinner, 
speaking of that young fellow, I said : ‘ Is he 
one of the family at present ? ’ And you re- 
plied, ‘Not yet; but he wants to be.’^’ 

“ Yes,” said the girl scornfully. 

“ Well,” continued Uncle Marc hesitatingly, 
“ I did not quite understand what you meant 
by that.” 

“ I meant that he would like to marry me.” 

The viscount jumped to his feet. 

“ I fancied that was it, but I could not be- 
lieve it ! And you can speak calmly of this ! 
Marry you ! that buffoon ! he must be crazy ! 
It would be monstrous ! ” 

“You need not worry. He will not marry 
me,” said Chiffon, laughing. 

“ HeaA^en be praised,” murmured Uncle 
Marc, reassured. She looked at him affec- 
tionately. 

“ You are very good to bother about me ; 
do you realize that you are responsible for his 
desire to marry me ? ” 

“ I ? ” 

“Yes; as soon as it was known that you 


178 


CHIFFON’S MARRIAGE. 


had come into some money, it was reported 
that I should be very rich ; that you would 
give me a dot ; and that you would leave me 
all your fortune.” 

“ That is all true.” 

“ But your own children ? ” 

“ My children ! Have I any children ? ” 

“ No ; but when you marry.” 

“ I shall not marry, Chiffon, for fear of hap- 
pening upon a woman like ” — 

He was going to say “ like your mother ; ” 
but he paused, and went on : — 

“ Like some that I know. No ; I am dis- 
trustful. I shall remain an old bachelor.” 

“ So much the better, and then, if you wish, 
I will go and live with you ; I will keep house 
for you. I don’t want to marry either ; but 
after I am twenty-one, I certainly do not wish 
to remain here, — not one day, — in spite of 
poor papa, who is so good, and who will miss 
me very much. But I know that, on the other 
hand, my absence will smooth out for him 
many of the little difficulties of life ; and yet 
I fancy he will miss Chiffon.” 

“You say that you will go away; where will 
you go ? ” asked the viscount. 

“ I have always thought I would ask Aunt 


CHIFFON MARRIAGE. 


179 


Mathilde and Uncle Albert to take me again. 
But if you would like me, I should be very, 
very glad. If you only knew how fond I am of 
you ! I love you better than papa. Perhaps 
it is not right ; but I can’t help it.” 

Leaning towards him, she said in her tender, 
mellow voice, “ I simply adore you ! ” 

I do not deserve to be adored, my little 
girl,” he murmured, turning pale, and drawing 
back his chair. 

“ Oh, but you do.” 

“ Instead of keeping house for your old 
bear of an uncle, you will marry, and have a 
lot of shrieking infants, whom you will con- 
sider a great improvement on Gribouille and 
old Jean.” 

^‘I am sure that I shall not marry,” she 
answered quite seriously, “yes, sure; I cannot 
explain to you how I feel, but, as a matter of 
fact, no one seems to appeal to me.” 

“ No one "i What do you know about it ? 
Poor Aubibres is certainly a splendid fellow, 
clever and good, though he is not as young as 
he once was; as to the other, he is a little 
monster.” 

Coryse began to laugh, and said, “Tell that 
to Madame Delorme.” 


i8o 


CHIFFON MARRIAGE. 


‘^Ah, you also know the gossip. What 
Madame Delorme — who, by the way, is a 
perfect idiot, — likes in Barfleur is his name, 
his title, his English dress, his horses, and his 
chateau.” 

“ I believe you ; but at any rate that is 
something — something which many another 
woman might be fond of also ; while, as 
for me, I feel that I shall never love any 
one.” 

“ Perhaps you are already in love with some 
one?” he asked anxiously. 

“ With no one in the world ! ” cried Chiffon, 
so positively that Uncle Marc was quite re- 
assured. 

“No,” she continued, “no one pleases me, 
— as a husband, understand. Take for in- 
stance Paul de Lussy, whom people find so 
attractive, and M. de Trene, whom they are 
all fighting over. I don’t care anything about 
them. I know that it is absurd for me to say 
so, and that, with my face, I have no right to 
be so difficult to please.” 

“ With your face ? ” questioned Marc. “ What 
do you mean ? ” 

“ I mean, plain as I am.” 

“ Plain ; you plain ? ” 


CHIFFON'S MARRIAGE. 


i8i 


‘‘ I am perfectly aware of it,’^ she said 
sadly ; “ and it’s a great trial to me.” 

“ Does your mother tell you that ? You are 
pretty, very pretty. Don’t you know it ? ” 

“ You say that to please me ; or perhaps you 
even think so, because you are fond of me.” 

“ Listen, Chiffon,” said Uncle Marc, “ I 
repeat in all seriousness that you are a very 
pretty woman, and that you will be more so 
in two or three years. Do you think that 
Aubieres, man of the world that he is, would 
have been so mad about you if you had not 
been pretty 1 You ought to know the truth ; 
and you can believe your old uncle.” 

“What!” cried the girl joyfully. “You say 
that I am a pretty woman, a pretty woman I 
How amusing, and how pleased I am, and 
how I thank you for telling me ! But that 
need not stand in the way of my being a good 
housekeeper for you; on the contrary, please 
Uncle Marc, I beg of you, say ‘ yes ’ to me ; 
and until that time don’t go away; do not 
leave me here alone. If you only knew how 
horrible those two weeks were to me. I can- 
not get along without seeing you ; I cannot.” 

Slipping from her chair, Coryse sat down 
on the floor like a baby, leaning her little 


182 


CHIFFON MARRIAGE. 


head, which in the pale light of the lamp 
looked like a nest of silvery moss, against the 
knees of the viscount. Plaintively, her eyes 
filling with tears, she implored : — 

“You will not go away again.? Promise 
me that you will not.’^ 

With a violent effort he tried to rise ; but 
she forced him to sit down again, and, holding 
him tightly in her arms, she said : — 

“You push me away; why do you act so 
with me, tell me .? I have noticed it several 
times; you are not the same. There was a 
time when you took me on your lap, you 
kissed me ” — 

“There was a time when you were a little 
girl; now you are no longer at the age for 
that,’’ he answered harshly. 

Two big tears rolled rapidly down her rosy 
cheeks, and she murmured : — 

“ One is never too old to be loved.” 

“I do love you; I love you dearly,” said 
Uncle Marc, with emotion ; “ only I beg of 
of you, get up ; go and sit down.” 

As he was trying to push her from him, the 
bell rang in a timid, hesitating way. Marc 
shook Chiffon’s arm. 

“Get up, quick; do you hear.? This is all 
wrong. What if it were a caller .? ” 


CHIFFON'S MARRIAGE. 


1S3 

She rose with a merry look in her face once 
more. 

“ A caller ! ” she said. A caller with a 
ring like that, so shamefaced ? It sounds 
more like the cook’s lover.” 

The servant entered and announced, “ M. 
le Comte d’Axen.” 

“ Madam la Marquise is out,” cried Coryse. 

“ Show him in,” ordered Marc, who seemed 
relieved. 

“What!” said Chiffon, astonished. “You 
are going to receive him ? ” Her face fell as 
she added : “ It was so nice with no one but 
ourselves.” Then suddenly looking at her 
uncle, she said: “What is the matter with 
you ? You are so pale, I have never seen you 
look like that.” 

“Nothing,” said Marc, embarrassed; “it is 
the heat ; it will be over in a moment.” 

He stepped forward to greet the prince, 
while Chiffon followed him with her eyes. 

“ Monseigneur, my sister-in-law is out ; my 
niece will have to present me to your High- 
ness.” 

As Chiffon, glued to the spot, seemed to be 
a thousand miles away, he said : — 

Coryse, did you not hear ? ” 


184 


CHIFFON'S MARRIAGE. 


She ran quickly forward. 

“ Oh, Monseigneur, this is Uncle Marc, for 
whose election you have been working.” 
Then turning to her uncle, who looked very 
much astonished, she said : — 

“ Oh, you don’t know about it ; that is true, 
I have not seen you alone since yesterday. 
On the way back from Barfleur, imagine my 
discovering monseigneur explaining to the 
workmen in the blast-furnace that they ought 
to vote for you, and washing down his expla- 
nations with good liquor. But you mustn’t say 
anything, you know, about my meeting Mon- 
seigneur, and riding with him in the forest ; 
but I did ride with him.” 

Then, turning to the prince, she added : — 

“ It’s all right with Uncle Marc, you know ; 
one can tell him anything.” 

Noticing that Marc was listening with 
raised eyebrows, and a serious look, which 
with him showed a certain dissatisfaction, she 
added mournfully : — 

“ Always excepting to-day ; I don’t know 
what is the matter with him today ; he is out 
of sorts.” 

“ I came,” said the prince, “ to thank 
Madame de Bray for the kind letter she has 
just written me,” 


CHIFFON’S MARRIAGE. 




“ Again ! ” said Chiffon in amazement ; then 
to herself, she writes to him twice a day, 
then.” 

“ She proposed,” continued the count, “ to 
send me some invitations for the ball, in case 
I desired to invite any one ; and she took the 
trouble to send me a list, which I return.” 

He laid an envelope on the table, and said 
as he arose, “ I will not trouble you any 
longer.” 

“ But, Monseigneur,” insisted Uncle Marc, 
with a cordiality that surprised Coryse, “if 
you have nothing to do this evening we should 
be delighted ” — 

Chiffon slipped out to order the tea ; then 
she put Gribouille to bed, and went to see if 
her flowers had been watered ; and when she 
returned to the room, the two men who were 
talking of a thousand things in which both were 
interested, paid no further attention to her. 

When the prince left at eleven o’clock, 
Coryse asked Uncle Marc how he liked him. 

“ I found him very intelligent and agree- 
able. Why did you give me the opposite im- 
pression ? ” 

“Did I?” 

“ You told me that he only came up to my 


i86 


CHIFFON’S MARRIAGE. 


knees, and that he was as black as the ace of 
spades.” 

“ Well, it is true ; he is ugly, according to 
my views.” 

And who could be considered handsome 
according to your views } ” 

“ Well, I hardly know, unless it were your- 
self.” 

“ I ? ” 

“ Yes ; I don’t mean that you are beautiful 
in the Greek sense, but I like you as you are ; 
I detest insignificant people, and small and 
sickly ones, and I hate young men ; a man 
does not seem a man at all until he is thirty- 
five.” 

“ Bless me ! it is unfortunate for poor 
Aubieres that you don’t place the limit a little 
further along. As for the prince, I consider 
him a great success.” 

“ So do I ; but only since I met him the 
other day, and had such a nice talk with 
him.” 

Uncle Marc again raised his eyebrows. 

“We must talk a little about this adventure 
of yours,” he said. “ Your mother is certainly 
right sometimes ; you act like a little girl with 
no bringing-up. At your age, do you think 


CHIFFON MARRIAGE. 


187 


you should go running around the woods alone 
with a young man ? 

“ Oh, but a king ? ’’ 

“ What difference does that make ? A 
king is a man.” 

“ If you look at it in that way, perhaps ; but 
then I was not entirely alone.” 

“ Yes, you had Jean, I suppose, — old idiot.” 

With a mournful shake of the head, the 
child murmured : — 

“ Mon Dieu / how disagreeable you are 
getting.” 

“ Disagreeable because I do not approve of 
your whims ? Because I do not encourage 
you to flirt in the woods with every passing 
adventurer ? ” 

With a laugh she answered : — 

“Now he is an adventurer; a moment ago 
he was a great success.” 

The viscount showed considerable irrita- 
tion. 

“ I have had enough of these ways of yours. 
Perhaps it is true that I have spoiled you, and 
laughed when you have acted like a wild colt. 
It is no longer amusing. If I have encour- 
aged you in evil ways, if what has come to 
pass is in any way my fault, I repent of it 


CHIFFON'S MARRIAGE. 


1^8 


bitterly. His voice was choking in spite of 
its hardness. Chiffon tried to take his hands, 
but he repulsed her. Then, as she faced him, 
utterly cast down, she murmured feebly, but 
with intense emotion which she tried to con- 
ceal : — 

“Your trip has changed you. Uncle Marc, 
in a way that is hard to understand.’^ 


CHIFFON MARRIAGE. 


189 


CHAPTER XI. 

The day of the Barfleurs’ dinner M. de 
Bray had a terrible cold, and he announced to 
his wife that he could not go out. He said he 
was feverish, and would go to bed until the 
next day. 

“ It is a shabby trick to play the Barfleurs,’’ 
cried Madame de Bray ; “ she expects to have 
fourteen at the table, and now there will be 
but thirteen. One can’t fill a place two hours 
before a dinner.’’ 

“ I am sorry, but I feel too ill to go. You 
think that if thirteen sit down at a table, one 
of the number will die in the course of the 
year ; while I am positive I should die, even 
though there were fourteen at the table, if I 
went out in the condition I am in.” 

“ I hope at least that Coryse will take your 
place,” said the marquise. 

“ I ? never,” said the girl decidedly. 

“ Chiffon, dear, it would be very good of 
you,” said M. de Bray. 

“ Oh, don’t ask me, I beg of you. In the 


190 


CHIFFON MARRIAGE. 


first place,” she explained, thinking she had 
found an excellent pretext for staying at 
home, “ I must dine with Uncle Marc ; other- 
wise he would be all alone, as you are not 
going to sit up.” 

Marc, who up to this time had not appeared 
to hear a word of what was going on, earnestly 
protested. 

“ Not at all,” he said ; “ don’t bother about 
me. What an idea! Upon my word, one 
would think I needed a nurse ! ” 

“ No ; but you know you hate to eat 
alone.” 

“ I never said so.” 

“ Why,” said Chiffon, astonished, “ you have 
said so a hundred times.” 

“ Well, if I have, I didn’t know what I was 
saying ; and if you want to be a good girl. 
Chiffon, you will go to this dinner with your 
mother ; you will go for my sake.” 

“ What 1 ” thought Chiffon, “ after all that 
he said not two days ago about little Barfleur 
and the idea of his marrying me, he now 
wants to send me to their house, when I never 
go anywhere. Does he want to give me the 
appearance of running after him ? ” To her 
uncle she replied : — 


CHIFFON MARRIAGE. 


191 


“ Not under any circumstances shall I go to 
the Barfleurs’ this evening.” 

“ Why not ? ” asked Madame de Bray. 

“I told you the other day — I have no 
gown.” 

“ But the new one your father is to give 
you ? ” 

“ I have ordered it for to-morrow. It will 
not be done in time.” 

“Well, then, you could easily have your 
pompadour gown fixed up ! ” 

“ As I have worn long dresses for more 
than a year, it would look rather queer. When 
I sit down in it you can see up to my knees.” 

Uncle Marc rose. 

“ Put on your hat, and come with me. I 
will see that you have a gown at once.” 

“ Well,” said Coryse, “ if you are so crazy 
about my going, I will go, simply because you 
wish me to.” 

As she left the room, she said to herself, 
looking reproachfully at Marc, who avoided 
meeting her eye : — 

“ He does not want to be left alone with me 
again ; what can it mean ? ” 

The viscount took Chiffon to the most 
fashionable dressmaker in Pont-sur-Sarthe, a 


192 


CHIFFON M/tRRMGE. 


dressmaker whom she only knew by name, and 
whose very staircase she mounted with respect. 
Not only was Chiffon’s modest allowance in- 
sufficient to permit her to get her gown of 
Madame Bertin, but the marquise herself did 
not go to this great dressmaker. The mar- 
quise was entirely lacking in taste ; incapable 
of distinguishing the grace of a well-cut gown 
from the ugliness of one that was badly cut ; 
caring only for color, trimmings, and material. 
A woman’s dress was to her “ effective or not 
effective.” If she could say of a gown “ it is 
not effective,” no matter how delicious a crea- 
tion it might be, it lacked the desirable 
quality ; and if she saw it on some fashionable 
woman she would exclaim, “ How astonish- 
ing ! Madame X , who spends so much 

money on her dress, always gets things which 
produce no effect.’’ For her, tailors and dress- 
makers who made you pay for their style were 
“ thieves.” She considered only the price of the 
material and the number of yards that were 
used ; and it was perfectly useless to explain to 
her that cut was everything. It was the same 
with art. She could not understand, she said, 
how people could be such fools as to pay 15,000 
francs for a portrait, when one could get one 


CHIFFON MARRIAGE. 


193 


for 2,000, even more elaborate. If a novel 
was not filled with events and intrigues, it 
seemed “ very crude to her ; and she 
declared that she could not understand any 
one’s caring for Loti, who was entirely lacking 
in imagination. So she bought her own 
materials, and had them made up by some 
obscure dressmaker, with the result that her 
gowns never became her. Chiffon employed 
the same system and with the same result, 
except that her materials were better selected, 
and the design she chose was very simple, 
always about the same thing, — a sort of Rus- 
sian blouse, loose, and scarcely defining her 
exquisite little figure. 

When Uncle Marc, followed by his niece, 
entered Madame Bertin’s apartments, Coryse 
was surprised to find that he was well known 
there. 

“What can he have had to do with dress- 
makers ? ” she thought, “ and with a dress- 
maker who was neither Madame de Bray’s, 
nor Luce de Givry’s, who was very simple 
in her tastes, nor Madam de Bassigny’s, 
who was afraid she might meet objectionable 
women there.’’ 

While they were waiting for Madame 


194 


CHIFFON’S MARRIAGE. 


Bertin, who was busy with a fitting, Chiffon 
asked curiously : — 

“How is it that they seem to know you 
here ? 

“ I have been here — I — I came — I de- 
signed some costumes for the de Lussacs’ ball 
last year.” 

“ ‘ A costume/ not ^ some,’ ” she said, correct- 
ing him ; “ I remember very well, now, you 
designed one for Madame de Liron.” 

“ Hers and others.” 

“ No, hers and no others ; it made talk 
enough.” 

“ Do not speak so loud.” 

“ No one is listening,” said Chiffon, glan- 
cing at the girls who were going and coming 
attending to their business. 

She was silent and absorbed for a moment ; 
then she murmured, as though continuing a 
conversation already begun with herself : — 

“Another woman who deceives her hus- 
band — that Madame de Liron.” 

“ For heaven’s sake be quiet,” cried Uncle 
Marc, looking uneasily about. “Young girls 
should not talk of things about which they 
know nothing and ought to know nothing.” 

“ I know that, and I don’t know much ; but 


CHIFFON'S MARRIAGE. 


195 


I hear things, don’t I ? I have to, unless I 
put cotton in my ears.” 

“ One only hears when one is willing to 
listen.” 

“ Not at all ; I never listen, and I am 
always hearing things I would rather not. 
This about Madame de Liron, for example.” 

“ I forbid you to use names ; some servant, 
some maid from her house, might overhear.” 

“ Do you think the people in her house don’t 
know what their mistress does ? ” 

“ In any case they don’t need to hear it 
from you.” 

“ Or from you, I suppose,” she said ; and 
then added nervously, “ I don’t see why you 
are always talking about Madame de Liron.” 

“ I ? Did I introduce the subject this 
time ? ” 

At this point the door of one of the fitting- 
rooms opened, and Madame de Liron herself, 
in a cloud of pink gauze, entered, followed 
by Madame Bertin. 

“ They told me you were here ! I did not 
want to let you go without saying ‘Good- 
morning’ to you.” 

She shook the viscount’s hand, and, turning 
to Chiffon, said : — 


196 


CHIFFON'S MARRIAGE. 


“ Good - morning, Mademoiselle Coryse ; ” 
then to Marc : “ You have come to have a 
gown made ? ” 

“ Yes; for my niece,’’ he replied, hesitating 
and embarrassed. 

The little creature burst out laughing. 

“ You are playing mother ; how touching !” 
she said. Noticing the viscount’s constrained 
manner, she hastened to add : — 

“ My compliments to you ; your daughter is 
charming.” 

Chiffon seemed not to hear. She was gaz- 
ing eagerly upon the young woman, who was 
a very pretty, well-rounded, dimpled little 
person, whose brown hair curled over a low 
brow with soft outlines. She had big, caress- 
ing, chocolate-colored eyes, a correct nose, 
a very small mouth, charming if she kept it 
closed, and a superb complexion. Her shoul- 
ders rose white and plump from her exces- 
sively dkoUeM gown. The upper part of her 
arm was too full, and her flat, colorless ears 
were not well put on ; they were too slanting, 
and too far forward. 

Such as she was. Chiffon understood, al- 
though she herself did not care at all for that 
style of woman, that Madame de Liron was 


CHIFFON'S MARRIAGE. 


197 


very pretty, and would be pleasing to most 
people. As Marc made no answer, the young 
woman went on : — 

“ I hope you will have something pink for 
for her ; nothing but pink becomes such skins 
as hers ; and apropos.^ it would be at least 
polite of you to tell me how you like my 
gown.” 

“ Very successful,” he said, almost indiffer- 
ently. 

“ From the way you say it, one can scarcely 
believe you. It is for to-morrow, for your 
sister-in-law’s ball ; but we dine together to- 
night, I believe, at the Barfleurs’ ? ” 

“ No ; I seldom dine out, as you know ; and 
just now I am in mourning.” 

“ True ; I have not seen you since your 
return.” 

“ I only returned the day before yesterday, 
and I am making no visits.” 

“ I know.” 

She crossed the room, and took up some 
material that was spread out on an arm-chair. 
As she passed the viscount she said in an 
undertone : — 

But you will manage to see me in some 
way ? ” 


198 


CHIFFON MARRIAGE. 


Marc looked furtively at Chiffon, trying to 
make out whether she had overheard. Very 
pale, with lips closed and eyes on the ground, 
immovable as a statue, the child seemed un- 
conscious. A quick pulsation in her temples 
was the only sign of life, and Marc thought 
she had noticed nothing. 

Madame de Liron, coming back after ex- 
amining the material, inquired, “Your brother 
and sister dine there this evening, do they 
not ? ” 

“ My brother is ill ; my sister-in-law will go 
with my niece.” 

“ Oh ; that will be her d^but., will it not ? I 
am charmed that I am to meet her to-night.” 

Chiffon bowed haughtily. “ She is not like 
me. Since I have known that she was to 
be there, it has seemed still more odious to 
me.” 

“ Tell me, Madame Bertin,” said Uncle 
Marc to the dressmaker, “ when may I talk 
with you.> I am in great haste. I want a 
frock for my niece, and I want it at five 
o’clock. It is now half-past one.” 

“ I will give Madame Bertin up to you,” 
said Madame de Liron; “I have no further 
need of her,” and she left the room. 


CHIFFON’S MHRRIAGB. 


199 


“ Well,” said Marc, “ what can you do for 
me ? ” 

“Of course you know. Monsieur, that we 
cannot make a gown for you before five 
o’clock. The best we can do would be to 
try one of our models on to Mademoiselle 
d’Avesnes ; and if there is one that comes 
anywhere near her, we can make some altera- 
tions in it for this evening.” 

“ But are your models fresh ? ” 

“ Oh, they have been tried on in order to 
show them to our patrons ; but we have some 
that are quite fresh.” 

“There is a little pink gown” — she said, 
looking at Coryse. 

“ No ! ” cried Coryse, “ not pink ; I don’t 
want pink ! ” 

Madame de Liron had suggested to Uncle 
Marc that she have pink, and that alone was 
sufficient to decide her to choose any other 
color. 

“Is there any particular shade which you 
prefer. Mademoiselle ? ” 

“Anything you choose,” said Coryse, “ex- 
cept pink ; ” then she added, “ however, I am 
fond of white.” 

One of the assistants brought a white 


200 


CHIFFON MARRIAGE. 


moiisseline de sole. Madame Bertin opened the 
door of an adjoining room, and showing the 
way to Coryse, said : — 

“ Will you try this one on ? ’’ 

Noticing that Uncle Marc did not move, 
she said, “ Are you not coming too ? ” 

Uncle Marc followed the dressmaker, and 
seated himself in one corner of the fitting- 
room, where Chiffon was just stepping out of 
her gown which lay at her feet. She looked 
very dainty in a little short skirt and a silk 
jersey, the garment to which she fastened her 
stockings. Her Uncle de Launey, who had 
had charge of her physical training, had never 
permitted her to wear either corsets, garters, 
or low shoes. He considered all three both 
ugly and detrimental to health. 

“Nothing,” he used to say, “injures the flesh 
and the figure like corsets and garters ; and 
nothing spoils the ankle and the instep like 
low shoes.” In extremity, he would consent 
to the corset and the low shoes to hide imper- 
fections; the garters, never. So Chiffon had 
had freedom to grow ; and when at the age of 
twelve her mother took her again and wanted, 
to use her own expression, “to form her fig- 
ure,” Chiffon, incapable of bearing the least 


CHIFFON’S MARRIAGE, 


2C>t 


pressure, fought so hard against it that they 
were obliged to yield to her. 

“ I want to be myself,” she had said, “ with 
the figure which God Almighty gave me, and 
which is my own ! I don’t want to copy my 
neighbors. I don’t say that mine is better, 
but I prefer it; at any rate, I don’t look as 
though I had swallowed a cane,” then, with a 
furtive glance at Madame de Bray, she had 
said : — 

“ A large bust with large hips and a small 
waist is horrible to me. It has the effect of a 
pillow with a string tied around it.” 

When Chiffon had put on the simple little 
gown, with the thin gauzy skirts which hung 
one above another straight to the floor, and 
with a bodice which was gracefully draped 
over her firm, well-shaped bust. Madam Bertin 
exclaimed: — 

. “ That gown is just the thing ! There are 
not three stitches to be taken in it ; but any- 
thing looks well on a pretty figure, and Ma- 
demoiselle has a figure ; has she not M. le 
Vicomte ? 

“Yes, she has,” murmured Marc, who was 
looking on enraptured at Chiffon’s transfor- 
mation. 


202 


CHIFFON MARRIAGE. 


In this elegant, well-made gown, from which 
her shoulders rose firm and pink, the child 
looked so utterly different, that Uncle Marc 
said to himself, pleased, but a trifle annoyed 
at the same time : “ They will not recognize 
her this evening.” 

At that moment the door opened, and Ma- 
dame de Liron put her head in, and said : — 

“ Do you need any advice 1 ” 

“No, thank you,” replied Marc dryly, and 
turning very red. 

When the young woman caught sight of 
Coryse, she was petrified in the presence of 
this complete transformation ; her pretty laugh- 
ing face assumed an evil expression of alarm ; 
and as she pushed the door shut with a bang, 
she said to the viscount : — 

“ It is quite evident that you are enjoying 
yourself.” 

Coryse half closed her eyes, and said 
gently : — 

“ Madame de Liron is demonstrative, is she 
not?” And a quarter of an hour later, as she 
trotted along the Rue des Girondins by Uncle 
Marc’s side, she said, without mentioning the 
young woman’s name, but sure that he, too, 
was thinking of her : — 


CHIFFON'S MARRIAGE. 


203 


“At any rate, she is quite at home with 
you.” 

And he answered haughtily ; — 

“That is her manner.” The child shook 
her head, and murmured seriously : — 

“ There are shades, and shades.” 


204 


CHIFFON’S MARRIAGE. 


CHAPTER XII. 

As Uncle Marc had predicted, they scarcely 
recognized Chiffon, and she made a triumphal 
entrance into the Barfleurs’ drawing-room. 
Lacking in confidence though she was, she 
was nevertheless conscious of the effect she 
produced. She laughed in Madame de Bas- 
signy’s face, when she saw her look of amaze- 
ment and vexation. 

“ It doesn’t please her that I should look so 
well,” she thought. 

As for the marquise, she was simply ecstatic 
over the sensation produced by her daughter. 
Not fundamentally bad, but only vain and 
foolish, she enjoyed to the fullest extent any- 
thing which contributed in any way to her 
own importance, or which brought her into 
prominence. She was flattered by Chiffon’s 
success. The long faces of her excellent 
friends, Madame de Bassigny and Madame 
de Liron, delighted her ; and she looked kindly 
upon Chiffon, who, with a little court about 
her, v/as receiving compliments with a rapid- 


CHIFFON MARRMGE. 


205 


ity which astonished rather than frightened 
her. 

The Barfleurs perceived this unexpected 
transformation with some uneasiness. They 
thought, that even though Chiffon’s family 
might have been willing to give her to them 
when she was merely rich, they might refuse 
her now that she was also beautiful. Madame 
de Barfleur, irritated at seeing M. de Trene of 
the hussars, M. de Bernay, and Count de Liron, 
brother of Madame de Liron’s husband, and 
the greatest catch in their part of the country, 
all in an eager group about Coryse, called the 
girl graciously to her, and made her sit down 
by her side in order to keep an eye on her. 
Chiffon immediately complied. It was a mat- 
ter of indifference to her whether she was in 
one place or another, so long as she had 
neither Uncle Marc, nor her father, nor any 
one she was fond of, to talk with. To be 
sure, there were her cousins, Genevieve and 
her brother ; but Coryse had never been very 
intimate with Genevieve, a knowing young 
girl two years older than herself, already an 
adept in the arts of deception and of co- 
quetry. 

At length Madame de Barfleur, hearing the 


2o6 


CHIFFON'S MARRIAGE. 


wheels of a carriage upon the gravel, ex- 
claimed : — 

“ Oh ! here he is ! I was afraid he had not 
returned.” 

Chiffon, who was waiting with indifference 
the arrival of the last guest, was very much 
astonished to see the Due d’Aubieres come 
in ; and she was so delighted to see her old 
friend, that she arose with a bound and ran 
to meet him, saying : — 

“ Oh ! how delighted I am to see you ! ” 
The colonel started in surprise, as he did 
not immediately recognize Coryse in the stun- 
ning young woman who received him so cor- 
dially. But when he caught sight of the fluffy 
hair, and the beloved little face which was 
smiling upon him, and realized that it was 
really Chiffon who was before him, his long, 
serious face expressed such astonishment, that 
Coryse, divining its cause, exclaimed : — 

“ What ! even you do not recognize me ? ” 
Suddenly she perceived that they were look- 
ing curiously at her ; and she heard Madame 
de Bassigny say, as she leaned toward the 
marquise : — 

“ Your daughter is not cool towards her re- 
jected suitors, is she ? ” 


CHIFFON MARRIAGE. 


207 


“She is ridiculously childish for her age,” 
replied Madame de Bray, irritated at Chiffon’s 
manner ; and Chiffon thought : — 

“ Well, this time, at least, they have a right 
to give me a dig ; that certainly was tactless.” 

The Due d’Aubibres was agitated and em- 
barrassed. He had not expected to find 
Chiffon there, for she never went anywhere ; 
and he was far from expecting to see her 
so well-dressed, and so grown-up. Her long 
hair, which hung about her shoulders, was 
the only remaining trace of the child he had 
left. 

As he looked at her, he began to regain 
his self-possession, and felt more resigned to 
giving her up than though he had found her 
in all respects the same as when he had seen 
her last. If for one brief moment he had felt 
himself very near to the little Chiffon without 
fortune, he found himself at an infinite dis- 
tance from Mademoiselle d’Avbsnes, with her 
prospective riches. 

She seemed to him now like another incar- 
nation of a being he had loved in a former 
existence, long, long ago. He looked at her 
in astonishment and respectful curiosity, and 
gradually he felt that the passion which had 


2o8 


CHIFFON MARRIAGE. 


drawn him toward little Chiffon was grow- 
ing less. 

“What is the matter with you to-night, 
Colonel ? ” asked Madame de Bassigny 
sharply. “ Has your journey tired you ? 
You look as though it had.” 

“ It must be a look which is natural to me. 
It is certainly not fatigue.” 

Madame de Barfleur, much as she desired 
to, could not put Coryse at her son’s side. 
She wanted to keep her away from the dis- 
turbing influence of the handsome Trene or 
of M. de Bernay, both eligible young men, 
and fortune-hunters ; so she placed her be- 
tween the Due d’Aubieres, who she knew was 
not dangerous, and M. de Liron. 

During dinner. Chiffon, delighted to be 
near the colonel, talked gayly of matters that 
interested them both, — of Uncle Marc, of Gri- 
bouille, and of Josephine, and also of painting 
and art matters ; for M. d’Aubieres was much 
more cultured and intelligent than most of the 
men she knew. Toward the end of the meal, 
when the conversation was pretty general, and 
no one was paying any attention to them. 
Chiffon repeated in an undertone the story of 
the Barfleurs’ machinations, Father Ragon’s 


Chiffon marrmgf. 


509 


insinuations, and all the small maneuvers 
with which she had had to contend. 

“ What does Marc say to all this ? ” said the 
duke. 

“ He finds it idiotic, as you may imagine. 
However, it was his wish that I should come 
here to-night ; and it was he who gave me my 
gown. I don’t know what’s the matter with 
Uncle Marc, but lately he is quite changed ; 
he is not at all the same to me.” 

In what way ? ” 

“ I cannot explain it exactly. He is whim- 
sical ; he picks me up when I don’t deserve 
it. It amounts to nothing ; but it is something, 
all the same.” 

“ I am going to see him to-morrow morning. 
I bade him such a hasty adieu, the day I 
went away ” — 

'"'‘Apropos of that,” said Chiffon, raising 
her bright eyes timidly to the duke’s, “ you 
are no longer distressed, I hope ? ” 

“ I can hardly say that, but I' have grown 
sensible; and I thank you for having been 
wise for both of us.” 

“ That is right,” she said, and added after 
a moment’s hesitation : — 

“ You say that you are coming to see Uncle 


2lO 


CHIFFON'S MARRIAGE. 


Marc to-morrow ; you know the races take 
place to-morrow ? ” 

“ Yes ; but I shall see Marc in the morn- 
ing.” 

And you know there is to be a ball at our 
house in the evening 1 It will be such a 
bore ! Ah, apropos^ the little prince you 
sent us is very nice ; I say apropos because 
the ball is given for him.” 

“ You like my little prince, then ? ” 

“ I began by finding him a bore ; but we 
have become very good friends.” 

After dinner, Madame de Barfleur begged 
Chiffon to assist her son in serving the coffee. 

“ Do you allow smoking, ladies ? If you 
do, we can keep the gentlemen with us.” 

Coryse, who had been hoping that the 
smoking-room would rid her of Hugh de Bar- 
fleur’s languorous airs and mysterious whis- 
perings, made a face, and went and sat 
down in a corner alone ; while Genevieve 
de Lussy, who with Madame de Liron was the 
center of a group of admiring men, was flirt- 
ing in the manner of a woman of the world. 
After a short time, Madame de Bray motioned 
to Chiffon to come to her, and said to her 
angrily ; — 


CHIFFON MARRIAGE. 


211 


“ Don’t stay off in a corner without talking, 
as though you were piqued at something ; you 
look like a perfect goose.” 

“ What can I talk about ? ” 

Anything; only mingle in the conversa- 
tion.” 

The child sat down again perplexed. She 
did not know how to talk about nothing ; and 
occupied hitherto as she had been with child- 
ish things, or with things intellectual, she was 
embarrassed at having to take part in a conver- 
sation that was nothing but small-talk. So 
she remained silent, seeking in vain for a 
chance to say something. Finally she gave 
up trying, and began to think of other things 
in spite of her mother’s indignant glances. 

While she was dreaming of Uncle Marc, 
who at that very moment, she supposed, was 
reading his newspapers, or of Gribouille who 
must be having his supper, she noticed a stir 
in the drawing-room. Following a discussion 
on the authenticity of a portrait of Henry IV., 
which hung opposite where she was sitting, 
little Barfleur had taken an enormous lamp, 
w'hich he carried with difficulty, and climbing 
upon a chair, was trying to light the picture as 
best he could. The face of the king, strong 


212 


CHIFFON MARRIAGE. 


and energetic, peered forth from the dark old 
canvas. Chiffon, looking at his ugly, but at 
the same time attractive, head, exclaimed 
amiably : — 

“ There is a man who has not the phiz of a 
Protestant — Henry IV!’' 

This was coldly received ; and Chiffon, per- 
ceiving it immediately, remembered that the 
Lirons were Protestants ; and attempting to 
turn the conversation, said : — 

“ He is to blame for my ridiculous name.” 

“ Ridiculous name I what do you mean ? ” 
asked little Barfleur graciously. 

“ Corysande is my name ; did you not know 
it?” 

“Yes, Mademoiselle, yes ; but it is not a ri- 
diculous name ; it is charming.” 

“ That is a matter of taste.” 

“And why is Henry IV. responsible for 
your having a name you do not like ? ” 

“ He is, in a way ; because it was given me 
in remembrance of the beautiful Corysande.” 

Seeing that the viscount did not under- 
stand, she added : — 

“ You know who she was.” 

“Perfectly,” he replied^ somewhat dubi- 
ously. 


CHIFFON'S MARRIAGE. 


213 


“You don’t seem very familiar with the 
story. The beautiful Corysande was the 
Countess of Guiche, and she was the god- 
mother of one of the Avesnes in 1589; and 
from that time all the Avbsnes have called their 
daughters Corysande, so the tradition goes.” 

“ Exactly ; but I do not see how Henry IV. 
is concerned in it.” 

“ Henry IV. is concerned in it because of the 
celebrity of the beautiful Corysande, by rea- 
son of which it was a distinction to have her 
for a god-mother. And her celebrity came 
through Henry IV., didn’t it?” 

“ Yes, yes,” interrupted Madame de Bar- 
fleur, who was always fearing that the igno- 
rance of her son would be brought to light. 

Very ignorant herself, she realized her 
danger, and possessed in a high degree the 
ability to be silent, which women in a similar 
situation are apt to have. 

The Due d’Aubi^res, whp was looking at 
the other portraits, asked, pointing to a gen- 
eral of the Empire : — 

“ Who is that ? ” 

“ That,” said the viscount, looking indiffer- 
ently at his ancestor, a stocky Hercules lean- 
ing on his sword, “that is my grandfather.” 


2I4 


CHIFFON *S MARRIAGE. 


“ Indeed,” said Chiffon, struck with his 
appearance, “ he does not look at all like 
you ; ” and continuing to examine General Bar- 
fleur with kindly interest, she added, “it is 
not astonishing that those men did great 
things.” 

“ It is merely unfortunate,” said the vis- 
count sententiously, “that those great things 
were done for the glory of Bonaparte.” 

“ For the glory of France,” said Chiffon, 
correcting him. 

“ No,” continued little Barfleur, happy to 
have at last found a subject for conversation. 
“They served only for Bonaparte’s aggran- 
dizement; and Bonaparte will never be in the 
eyes of the world anything but an usurper, an 
enemy of France.” 

“ In the eyes of the world, did you say ? ” 
cried Chiffon, flushing crimson. “The Em- 
peror an enemy of France } It was those who 
returned from Coblentz who dared to speak 
of him in that way ; those who rejoiced to see 
France encroached upon in order to accom- 
plish — what a result — Louis XVIII ! ” 

“ Louis XVIII. was a great king,” an- 
nounced little Barfleur impressively. 

“ A great king .> ” said Coryse, almost burst- 


CHIFFON MARRIAGE. 


215 


ing with anger. “A great king? You defend 
the king for the same reason that you go to 
mass, because it is the thing, and you think 
it is not the thing to be an Imperialist ; they 
are all such swaggerers and blusterers.^’ 

“ Thank you on behalf of the Imperialists, 
Mademoiselle Coryse,” said the Due d’Au- 
bieres, bowing and smiling. 

Madame de Bray rushed at Chiffon, and 
said threateningly, but in an undertone : — 
^^Be quiet'; you are perfectly ridiculous.” 

“ That may be ! Why do they amuse them- 
selves by mocking my Emperor? Besides, 
you told me to talk, to say anything, only to 
talk.” 

Disturbed at the sight of her offspring 
plunged in another conversation, Madame de 
Barfleur suggested, seating herself at the 
piano, that the young people waltz. With one 
impulse the handsome Trene, M. de Bernay, 
and Count Liron made a rush for Chiffon ; 
but little Barfluer, who stood nearer than they, 
took possession of the girl. 

As she felt his touch upon her waist. Chif- 
fon’s supple body stiffened ; and, drawing back 
involuntarily, she said : — 

“ No — I ” — She was about to say, “ I am 


2i6 


CHIFFON MARRIAGE. 


going to dance with M. d’Aubieres,” and then 
signal to the duke to come to her rescue ; 
but she decided it would not help her much. 
However vague her ideas of politeness were, 
she realized that she ought to dance at least 
once with the master of the house ; so when 
he hesitated, abashed, she said : — 

“ Oh, nothing ; come on.” 

If the heir of the Barfleurs was a poor 
talker, he was a beautiful dancer ; and Chiffon 
felt a real pleasure in being carried across the 
big room. Suddenly her partner led her into 
the dimly lighted picture-gallery, where he 
said they would have more room. 

“ But the others,” Chiffon suggested, look- 
ing to see if Genevieve de Lussy and Madame 
de Liron were following. 

The viscount stopped, and beckoned to the 
waltzers to follow. 

“ They are coming,” he said ; and they were 
off again. 

But they had the big, bare room to them- 
selves. Madame de Liron did not care to 
waltz except for an audience ; and Madame 
de Lussy, who knew her daughter only too 
well, did not allow her away from her mater- 
nal eye. 


CHIFFON’S MARRIAGE, 


217 


“ Madame de Liron is considered very pretty, 
isn't she ? ” asked Chiffon abruptly. 

Ever since morning the image of the young 
woman had haunted her, and she could not 
help speaking of her. 

“ Your uncle seems to consider her particu- 
larly so,” said little Barfleur. “ What do you 
think of her. Mademoiselle ? ” 

“ Too rotund — and you ? ” 

“ I ? ” replied the viscount, drawing Chiffon 
toward him with a slight pressure. “ I do not 
see her. I see no one but you. It is you 
who are pretty to me, so very pretty ! It is 
you whom I love,” he added, under his breath. 

Chiffon did not hear. Enjoying the pleas- 
ure of waltzing with a good dancer, she had 
yielded herself to it completely, and was lean- 
ing fearlessly upon the viscount’s arm. 

Encouraged by this abandon, he bent over 
her, murmuring with a voice which he tried to 
make passionate : — 

“ I love you.” 

He was so near her that she felt his breath 
stir her hair. She stopped short in her aston- 
ishment, and, drawing away in confusion and 
indignation, exclaimed : — 

“ You’ve made quick work of this ! ” 


CHIFFON'S MARRIAGE. 


^i8 


CHAPTER XIII. 5 

^‘WiLL you tell Corysande that she must go 
to the races 1 ” cried the marquise, rushing into 
the library, where M. de Bray and Marc were 
smoking. “ She insists that she will not go.” 

“ But,” said Chiffon, who came into the 
room behind her mother, “ I do not see why I 
should have to go to the races ; I have never 
had to go before.” 

“ But you have not been a young lady be- 
fore.” 

“ Come, now. Chiffon,” interrupted the mar- 
quis; “ you are fond of horses.” 

“ It is because I am fond of horses that I 
am not fond of the races. It does not amuse 
me to see a horse prancing about with a 
sprained foot, like the one we saw at Auteuil 
two years ago, the day you took me with you.” 

^‘But an accident like that is nothing seri- 
ous.” 

“ It would either be that or something else ; 
and then that is not the only reason why I 
will not go to the races.” 


CHIFFON'S MARRIAGF. 




“ You should not say ‘ I will not,’ ” observed 
M. de Bray. 

“Why I do not wish to go to the races, 
then,” said Chiffon, accepting his correction. 

“ What is your reason ? ” 

“ I hate to be always in the midst of a lot 
of people. I like to be quiet ; to be let alone 
to stay with my animals.” Looking affection- 
ately at her step-father and uncle, she added, 
“ or with you two. This morning it was mass ; 
now it is the races ; and to-night the ball. All 
that is too much for one day.” 

“ Mass ! she puts mass in the same list with 
the other things,” cried Madame de Bray, rais- 
ing her eyes to heaven. 

Chiffon bristled. 

“ Yes, certainly ; the kind of mass v/e had 
this morning. You would not let me go to 
Saint Marcien, on the pretext that you needed 
Jean to help you at home, on account of this 
evening. You took me with you to the 
Jesuits ; and with them, mass is no mass at all ; 
it’s a five-o’clock tea in the morning. People 
are chatting, and they all go into the garden 
after it is over ; so that to-day you spoke to 
more than fifty people.” 

“ But you spoke to them too. I don’t see 
what you are complaining of.” 


520 


CHIFFON MARRUCF. 


That very thing, bless your soul.” 

“ 1 do not see how you can find it tiresome 
to meet the people in your own set.” 

“ That is a matter of taste ; it makes my 
hair stand on end ; and after seeing them this 
morning at mass, and again to-night at the 
ball, I shall have had my fill of society ; more- 
over, if you insist upon my going to the races, 
and if I have to spend the whole afternoon in 
the open air, I shall fall asleep in the midst of 
the ball to-night.” 

“That child is perfectly incapable of pol- 
ish,” sighed the marquise, utterly discouraged. 
“ It is useless to try to influence her,” and she 
slammed out of the room. 

“ Oh,” said Chiffon, throwing herself onto 
the couch, “ I am so sick of it all.” 

“ I do not understand,” began M. de Bray, 
“ why you do not wish to go with your mother 
to the races. You ” — 

“ What ! you do not understand ? Go your- 
self for once, and see how you like it.” 

“ It is different with me ; I have a frightful 
cold; I have just got out of bed, and I am 
not presentable.” 

“ And I am still stupid after my last night’s 
dinner.” 


CHIFFON'S MARRIAGE. 


221 


“ Oh, by the way, how did your dinner go 
off?” asked Uncle Marc. 

“ It was tiresome ; but fortunately M. d’Au- 
bieres was there, otherwise ” — 

“Ah,” said the marquis, “is Aubihres 
back?” 

“ Yes,” replied Marc ; “ he was here this 
morning while you were out. He wanted to 
see you ; to offer his excuses for not returning 
the other evening to say ‘ good-night ’ to you 
and your wife, after his walk in the garden 
with Chiffon. He was hardly in the humor, 
poor fellow.” With an amused smile, he con- 
tinued, “You know, don’t you, what Chiffon 
said to him in the course of that walk ? You 
could never guess. Very sweetly and prettily 
she said : ‘ I would rather have you know 
why I do not wish to marry you. It is this : 
it is because I am sure that if I did marry 
you, I should deceive you.” 

“ How perfectly ridiculous ! ” said M. de 
Bray, laughing too. 

Coryse shrugged her shoulders. “ It amuses 
you, does it ? Do you think it would have been 
better to let him imagine all kinds of things?” 

“ I do not see how he could have imagined 
anything worse,” said Uncle Marc. 


112 , 


CHIFFON'S MARRIAGE. 


; “ Is he angry with me ? ” she asked, a trifle 
disturbed. 

“ He > Oh, no, poor fellow ; he does not 
dream of such a thing. 

“ I am glad of that ; I thought it was not 
possible that he was angry. He was too nice 
during the dinner ; I had the good luck to be 
placed beside him.” 

“ Did everything go off well ” 

“ Did not mamma tell you ? ” 

“ I only saw your mother at breakfast. 
You were there ; you know we did not speak 
of yesterday.” 

“ Well, I made several breaks. In the first 
place about Henry IV. ; we were looking at his 
picture, and I said that there was nothing of 
the Protestant in his phiz ; and on account of 
the Lirons, you know, that was not very well 
received.” 

“ Was that all ? ” said Uncle Marc. 

‘^No; there was something else; but that 
was my mother’s fault. She called me to her 
and said that I must talk, talk even if I had 
nothing to say ; so as soon as I thought of any- 
thing, you can imagine I jumped at it. I got 
angry, and I said things I ought not to have 
said. It came about, apropos of Napoleon.” 


CHIFFON MARRIAGE. 


223 


“Oh,” said Marc in alarm, “if they at- 
tacked Napoleon ” — 

“Yes; you know how that makes my blood 
boil.” 

“ Did you go too far ? ” 

“ Perhaps I did ; but in any case I was more 
polite than the master of the house.” 

“ How did that happen ? ” said the marquis, 
very much interested. “ M. de Barfleur is 
courtesy itself.” 

“ Not always with me.” 

“ What has he done to you ? ” 

Chiffon blushed at the memory of the night 
before, and replied : “ He was too familiar. It 
happened when we were waltzing ; he took 
me into the picture gallery, with the excuse 
that there was more room there, and then, — 
let me see, what happened next ? Oh, yes ; he 
began by saying that Madame de Liron was 
too plump, that is to say, — no, I’m mixed, it 
was I who said that ; and then he said that I 
was pretty; that no one else was pretty to 
him.” Here she stopped, and Uncle Mar^ 
asked with some uneasiness : — 

“ What then ? ” 

“ Then suddenly he leaned toward me and 
said,” — imitating the voice and manner which 


224 


CHIFFON'S MARRIAGE. 


little Barfleur had adopted for the occasion, 
she murmured, — “ ‘ I love you.’ ” 

Her intonation was so funny that Marc 
laughed in spite of his annoyance ; and Chif- 
fon asked, turning to him and to her step- 
father : — 

“Do you think that was nice? Do you 
suppose this philandering will last long ? ” 
What philandering ? ” 

“ On the part of little Barfleur. I don’t 
want to put on airs, but I am not flattered 
that any one should imagine that I would 
marry that man.” 

“ He is not so bad,” said the marquis 
timidly. 

“Not so bad,” said the child with annoy- 
ance; “but he is absurd, and he looks so 
sickly, and he dresses so ridiculously, and he 
uses perfumery, heliotrope in the bargain ! 
Could anything be worse ? ” 

“ Mon Dieu / Are there no circumstances 
under which a man may use a little per- 
fumery?” 

“ No ! ” cried Chiffon, her voice rising ; “ a 
man has no right to smell of anything but 
tobacco.” Turning to Uncle Marc, she said, 
“ That makes you laugh ; does it amuse you ? 


CHIFFON’S MARRIAGE. 


225 


As for you, you have been horrid to me like 
the rest of them. Yes, horrid. It began some 
time ago ; but for the last few days it has been 
worse. Ever since the night when that odious 
little Barfleur dined here.’’ 

Although the viscount protested, she con- 
tinued nervously : — 

“ Oh, I do not say that you have not been 
kind to me, as far as giving me things goes ; 
for example, you have given me a gown, a 
very beautiful one. I shall wear it to-night, 
because it has much more style than the one 
papa gave me. Oh, yes, you give me things ; 
but as for loving me, you don’t seem to any 
more ! ” 

“ But I do.” 

Oh, no, you don’t. If you were very fond 
of me, would you want me to marry a monkey 
like little Barfleur > ” 

“ I have said nothing in his favor.” 

“ Nor anything against him either ; and I 
don’t want him, the monkey ! I don’t want 
him or anybody else ; so there ! It is your 
fault if they torment me, if they want to marry 
me ; yes, your miserable money is to blame for 
it ! If it were not for that, they would leave 
me alone in my corner as they used to.” And 


226 


CHIFFON'S MARRIAGE. 


burying her face in her hands, she began to 
sob violently. 

“ Let her alone,” said Marc to M. de Bray, 
who had approached her and was trying to 
talk to her. “ Her nerves are upset ; let us 
go away and leave her here to cry ; it will do 
her good.” 

As soon as he had left the room, the marquis 
turned and looked at Chiffon who was still 
sobbing, and murmured : — 

“ She has never been nervous before, poor 
child ; this is not natural to her ; I should not 
be surprised if she were in love with some 
one.” 

“You are crazy,” said Marc, with a dull 
fear. “ Whom could she be in love with } Not 
with Trene, surely, that insipid beauty who 
would beat his wife and gamble away her dot ; 
nor with Bernay, she hates hypocrites ; nor 
with Liron, he is a perfect fool.” 

“ As his brother did not answer, he in- 
sisted : “ With whom, then ? With whom ? 

with whom.?” 

And M. de Bray replied without perfect 
calmness, “ How should I know ? ” 


CHIFFON MARRIAGE. 


227 


CHAPTER XIV. 

“Where has Uncle Marc gone?” asked 
Chiffon, coming into the drawing-room a few 
minutes before the arrival of the guests. “ I 
have looked for him everywhere, and he is 
not to be found.” 

“You know very well that he intends to 
bury himself for the evening,” said the mar- 
quis. “ What do you want of him ? ” 

“ I want to show him my gown. He has 
only seen me in it by daylight, and it is so 
much more becoming at night.” 

“You will have to show it to him some 
other time. He is grumpy to-night. It seems 
that nerves art the fashion to-day,” he added, 
smiling. 

“Yes,” said Coryse, “I noticed at dinner 
that he was all out of sorts. What do you 
think is the matter with him?” 

“He has a bad disposition,” said the mar- 
quise. 

“No, indeed,” protested Chiffon; “he has 
not ! ” 


228 


CHIFFON MARRIAGE. 


think I’ll go and look for him.” 

“ No, no ! ’’ said Madame de Bray, who was 
not in a good humor. “ Stay here ; the guests 
will be coming soon.” A look of gloom came 
over her bright face. 

“ Ah, Mofi Dieu ! that is true ; it is ten 
o’clock. I wonder who will come first. I 
wager the stupidest of all. Tra-la-la. It’s 
the Bassignys. Just as I had the words in 
my mouth.” 

And, sure enough, it was Madame de Bas- 
signy, very much laced, in a striking silvery 
gown, followed by the colonel in a uniform 
a trifle small for him, and which had slipped 
up, forming a big plait across his shoulders. 

Madame de Bassigny seemed annoyed at 
being the first to arrive. She did not con- 
sider it good form, and threw the blame for 
it upon the colonel. In a significant tone 
she asked Coryse if the political discussion of 
the night before had kept her awake. 

The girl replied that she always slept well, 
even after the most wearisome evening ; and 
then the arrival of the guests interrupted the 
conversation, which was becoming a little 
sharp. 

Little Barfleur entered close by his mother’s 


CHIFFON MARRIAGE. 


229 


side, and was evidently disturbed as to the 
possible results of his declaration. He ad- 
mitted to himself that he had gone rather too 
far, and had struck a false note. 

Chiffon’s indifferent reception of him re- 
assured him, and he soon regained his com- 
posure ; he flew hither and thither, prattling 
with this one and that one, and seemed to be 
everywhere at the same time. The arrival of 
Count d’ Axen had the effect of a douche upon 
him. He began by examining him with great 
respect, awed to a certain extent by the pres- 
ence of a real prince ; but he soon forgot the 
prince, and saw only a rival. The appear- 
ance of this fellow, younger and better look- 
ing than himself, considerably diminished his 
own prestige. 

As soon as the orchestra began to play, 
little Barfleur advanced towards Coryse ; but, 
as he reached her, she was being whirled 
away by Count d’Axen. He was pained to 
observe that the prince waltzed as only the 
people of his country know how to do. And 
tomight he was having not only the success 
to which by virtue of his position he had a 
right, but he was having equally deserved 
success as a man ; and for that little Barfleur 


230 CHIFFON *S MARRIAGE. 


could find no consolation. He rushed up to 
Madame de Liron as she came in, — followed 
by her husband and her brother-in-law, — 
brilliant, striking, and lovely, in the pink gown 
that they had seen at the dressmaker’s, and 
asked for the next waltz. But Madame de 
Liron was especially anxious to be seen by 
Count d’Axen at her best, and she knew that 
women who dance with small men are at a 
disadvantage ; so she replied, with some irri- 
tation at his untimely haste : — 

“ By and by ; I have just come ; give me a 
chance to breathe ; ” then, turning to the mar- 
quis, she said : — 

“ Is it really true that your bear of a brother 
is not here ? ” 

“ It is perfectly true.” 

“ And he will not appear ? ” 

“ And he will not appear.” 

Is he up-stairs ? ” she said, raising her eyes 
to the ceiling. “ Above all this hubbub ? ” 

“ Yes.” 

“ What is it to her ? ” wondered Coryse, 
looking at the young woman in her fresh 
toilet, and her tiara of diamonds. 

Nothing about this plump doll with her 
wicked eyes, and her rather common outlines, 
was agreeable to Chiffon. 


CHIFFON MARRIAGE. 


231 


“ It seems that they consider her pretty,” 
she thought, as she saw the enthusiasm which 
the little Liron excited ; and she made a pa- 
thetic effort to understand this admiration, 
which she could not explain. The Due d’Au- 
bieres came up to her. 

“What are you thinking of. Mademoiselle 
Chiffon ; you look like a little conspirator.” 

Coryse blushed. 

“ Of nothing.” 

“ You seem preoccupied, and a little som- 
ber, if that ugly, black word may be applied 
to you ; ” and as the girl stammered out a 
meaningless reply, he asked affectionately : — 

“ Are you annoyed at anything ? Has some- 
thing gone wrong } ” 

“ No ; nothing at all,” said Chiffon promptly, 
wishing to put an end to this questioning 
which embarrassed her — she knew not why. 
She asked in her turn : — 

“ So you think Uncle Marc is sure of his 
election ? ” 

“ I think so ; but he does not seem to 
bother himself much about it. I saw him this 
morning, and he did not say three words about 
it. He seems to have forgotten that it is next 
Sunday. He, too, seems preoccupied.” 


232 


CHIFFON MARRIAGE. 


“ Oh,’^ said the girl uneasily; and the 
thought immediately followed, “ can it be 
because of Madame de Liron that he is 
preoccupied ? ” 

The colonel noticed Chiffon’s wandering 
gaze, and her tightly drawn lips. 

“You are off again, Mademoiselle Chiffon ; 
you are far away in the land of the blues.” 

“Not so bad as that,” she replied, hardly 
knowing what she said. 

Little by little they had been drawing 
toward the big bay window which opened out 
upon the garden. The night was stormy; a 
leaden heat pervaded. 

“ It is stifling in here,” said Chiffon, throw- 
ing back her heavy hair. And she stepped 
out, followed by M. d’Aubibres. 

“ Look,” cried the duke, glancing upward, 
“there is that. fellow Marc, walking calmly to 
and fro in his room, with no idea that we can 
see him from below. ” 

Chiffon looked, and saw Uncle Marc’s tall 
silhouette which stood out very black in the 
bright frame of the window. 

Madame de Liron came into the garden on 
the arm of M. de Bray. She also perceived 
the viscount. 


CHIFFON MARRIAGE. 


233 


“ What a good joke it would be,” she cried 
gayly, “to go up and say ‘Good-evening’ to 
your brother. What would you say to it ? ” 

“ Why,” said the marquis embarrassed, “ I 
hardly know.” 

“Yes; let us do it; will you? It would be 
very amusing. Are you with us, M. d’Au- 
biferes ? ” 

“No, Madame; I should fear that my friend 
Marc would shut the door in my face.” 

“ In mine too ? ” asked the young woman, 
smiling. “ Would he refuse to admit me ? ” 

Without waiting for an answer, she turned 
toward M. de Bray. 

“ If I should go up very softly by the stair- 
case out of the library, it would be a good 
joke, would it not?” 

“ Excellent,” murmured Chiffon, in a tone 
of extreme impertinence. 

“ Show me the way, M. de Bray ; will you ? ” 

“ Madame, I have a multitude of things to 
attend to down here,” explained the marquis, 
very much embarrassed by the rdle which the 
young woman was trying to make him play ; 
“ but d’Aubi^res will take you in charge.” 

“As far as the staircase,” said the duke, 
smiling, and offering her his arm. 


234 


CHIFFON MARRIAGE. 


Coryse was left alone. The handsome 
Trene, very slender in his hussar’s uniform, 
came down the steps. 

“ At last I have an opportunity to speak to 
you, Mademoiselle.” 

Chiffon, who was hurrying to follow M. 
d’Aubieres and Madame de Liron, stopped 
in some annoyance at being hindered in her 
project. 

“ But you have seen me before,” she said 
dryly. 

She had spoken in rather a high key. 
Marc’s silhouette, which had disappeared for 
a moment, reappeared upon the balcony and 
remained motionless. 

“ I spoke to you as I came in, but I have 
not been able to compliment you upon your 
lovely toilette.” 

As Coryse did not answer, he went on 
impressively ; — 

“ After all, is it the costume which is so 
lovely.? I do not wish to pay you a trite 
compliment. Mademoiselle, by repeating what 
you must have heard a hundred times since 
last evening — but you are ” — 

“Charming,” interrupted Chiffon with a 
laugh. “ Yes; they all agree upon that.” And 


CHIFFON'S MARRIACE. 


235 


hastening to slip away, she added brusque- 

ly:— 

And if that is all you have to say to me " — 
“ But I wanted also to beg you to give me a 
waltz,” replied M. de Trene, abashed. 

“ Which one ? ” 

“Any which you will be good enough to 
give me ; the next, if you will.” 

“ The next is Count d’Axen’s.” 

“Again.?” 

“ Again ! What do you mean ? ” said Coryse, 
provoked. “ Do you keep track how often I 
dance with this one or that one .? ” 

She suddenly stopped; she felt that Uncle 
Marc was leaning over his balcony listening ; 
but she dared not suggest such an idea by a 
glance in that direction. 

“ The second waltz, then ? ” she heard de 
Trene say. 

“That is M. d’Aubi^res’. Would you like 
the fourth from now ? ” 

Count d’Axen came up, almost running: — 

“ This is my waltz, Mademoiselle Chiffon ! ” 
The big shadow at the window moved un- 
easily. Coryse thought : — 

“ I wager that at this moment he is not in a 
good humor.” 


236 


CHIFFON’S MJRRUGE. 


Mademoiselle,” said M. de Trene, “will 
you do me the honor of presenting me to 
Count d’ Axen ? ” 

“ Will you allow me, Monseigneur ? ” she 
asked, turning to the prince. And as he 
bowed, she murmured : — 

“ Monsieur de Trene.” 

“I am delighted to meet you, Monsieur,^^ 
said Count d’Axen, extending his hand to the 
officer. “ Next week we are to be comrades 
in the regiment. I am to take part in the 
maneuvers, and I am to march with you. 
Shall we waltz here on the terrace ” he said 
to Chiffon. “ We can hear the music very 
well here ; and it is stifling inside.” 

She complied, not daring to refuse ; but fear- 
ing, without knowing why, that it would dis- 
please Uncle Marc, who still stood motionless 
upon his balcony. When they stopped, the 
prince said to Coryse : “ I regret very much 
not to see your uncle this evening.” 

“ He is in his room on account of his mourn- 
ing,” she murmured, with a furtive glance 
toward his window. 

“ He is a charming man ; I have a great af- 
fection for him. We have taken a good many 
walks together lately, and horse-back-rides.” 


CHIFFON MARRIAGE. 


237 


“What! thought the girl, “he has never 
told me ; he has not spoken of him since the 
other evening.” 

“ M. de Bray has one of the finest minds I 
know ; and an exquisite soul,” the count con- 
tinued. 

“ Has he not, Monseigneur ! ” cried Chiffon, 
ready to fall down and worship the prince. 

“ I shall be very glad,” he said, “ if the 
maneuvers are over in time to permit me to 
leave when he does.” 

“ To leave ? ” said the girl in anguish, “ to 
leave for where ? ” 

“ He has not told you, then ? ” 

“ Yes, yes,” she said, wishing him to go on ; 
“he has told me something” — 

“Immediately after the election, M. de Bray 
is going to travel for two months.” 

“ Ah!” 

“ He wishes to examine into the condition 
of the poor, to inform himself at first hand 
about various things ; in a word, he wishes to 
do, and he will be able to do, a great deal of 
good. Mademoiselle Chiffon, your uncle is 
one of those rare men who spend their lives in 
doing fine things which they conceal as care- 
fully as though they were crimes.” 


238 


CHIFFON'S MARRIAGE. 


‘‘I have told him that very thing,” mur- 
mured Chiffon, holding on to herself to keep 
the tears back. The thought that Uncle Marc 
was going away upset everything. 

After his return, if he were elected, he 
would go off to Paris, where the family did 
not go until spring ; so she would not see him 
any more. 

All at once the viscount, who had been 
leaning over the balcony rail, turned suddenly 
toward his room ; evidently some one had just 
entered. 

“It is she,” thought Coryse, whose heart 
was beating fast. As soon as the waltz was 
over, she bowed to the prince, and threaded 
her way among the dancers into the library, 
where she climbed the old oak staircase which 
lead directly to the viscount’s apartments, 
determined to see, to listen, to know some- 
thing definite, no matter by what means. But 
suddenly she stopped. Her heart failed her. 

“No,” she said, “it would be dishonorable; 
and, besides, I know all I want to know.” 

The rustling of silk and of tulle warned her 
that some one was coming down the stairs. 
Rushing down the steps, she hid herself 
behind the staircase. Madame de Liron; 


CHIFFON’S MARRIAGE, 


239 


looking very festive, returned to the big draw- 
ing-room, exclaiming, in order to show that 
she was not trying to conceal her visit: — 

“ He was not at all pleased ; if you will 
believe it, he was almost angry.” 

“ She is lying,” thought Chiffon. “ He was 
delighted ; she is trying to blind people.” 
And running up the stairs, she opened the 
viscount’s door without knocking. Seated 
before his table, his head leaning upon his 
folded arms, Marc did not hear her enter. 
With a clear but excited voice she asked 
angrily : — 

What has she been doing to you ? ” 

At the sound of her voice, he rose, and said 
with displeasure : — 

“ What are you doing here, you ? ” 

As she caught sight of the poor, distracted 
face turned toward her. Chiffon could only 
feel an immense tenderness for the uncle she 
loved so much. Forgetting everything, she 
said in surprise, and with deep feeling: — 

“ You have been weeping ; why should you 
weep, Mon Dieu ? ” Then timidly she added, 
“ Is it on her account ? Tell me.” 

“ I do not know whom you mean by “ her,” 
but I beg you will return to your flirtations 


240 


CHIFFON’S MARRIAGE. 


and your dances. Go and listen to the com- 
pliments of that brute, de Trene, and waltz in 
the garden with Count d’Axen, since it amuses 
you ; but leave me in peace.’’ 

“ In peace to weep ? ” 

“ To weep, if it amuses me.” 

Chiffon caught sight of two big open trunks 
in his dressing-room, and, utterly cast down, 
she asked : — 

‘‘‘ Are you going sooner, then ? ” 

“ Sooner than what ? How did you know 
that I was going ? ” 

“ Count d’Axen told me.” 

He gave a scornful laugh. 

“ Ah ! do you talk of me when you are 
together ? ” 

Yes ; he told me you were going to travel.” 
As he made no reply, she asked in a trem- 
bling voice which betrayed all her fears : — 

“ And what will become of me ? ” 

Without looking at her, he replied in cutting 
tones : — 

“You don’t expect me to take you with 
me, do you? or to remain here on your ac- 
count ? ” 

“ How you talk to me. Uncle Marc ! ” said 
Chiffon mournfully ; and her eyes, clouded with 


CHIFFON MARRIAGE. 


241 


tears, were blue as periwinkles. How harsh 
you are to me ! ” 

“ Why do you come here to torment me ? ” 

She waited a minute before she answered, 
standing motionless in the middle of the room 
all pink and white in her snowy gown, which 
fell in straight lines from her waist, defining 
the pure outline of her strong young figure. 
Her blond hair, which was blown about her 
head by the air from the window, gave her the 
look of a little fairy, of a being strange and 
unreal. In spite of himself, Marc looked at 
her with an expression of immense tenderness 
in the depth of his eyes. Too near-sighted 
to see this look. Chiffon asked, after a si- 
lence : — 

“ And so, according to what the prince tells 
me, you are going away from here to do good 
deeds ? 

He shrugged his shoulders ; the girl went 
on : “I could tell you of one not far away 
which you might do ; one that would be a very 
noble deed.’^ As he made no reply, she mur- 
mured in a whisper that was a mere breath : 
“ And that would be to marry me.’^ 

The viscount turned pale, and stepped 
toward her. 


242 


CHIFFON'S MARRIAGE. 


“ What did you say ? ” 

“ You heard what I said,” 

Hoarsely he replied : — 

“ This is a strange subject for joking. It 
is not funny.” 

“Joking!” cried Chiffon, aghast. “God 
knows I love you above all else, and there are 
times when it seems to me that you love me 
above all else ; and so I say to you, * Marry 
me.’ ” 

“ Chiffon ! ” said Uncle Marc gently, taking 
the girl in his arms, “ my Chiffon ! Oh, how I 
love you ! I love you ! I love you ! ” 

“ You want me, then ? ” 

He covered her face with kisses ; trembling, 
she sighed : — 

“ It is so sweet to have you kiss me.” 

Then, with a laugh, — 

“ What will they say down-stairs when they 
know it ? ” 

Uncle Marc looked at Chiffon, uncertain 
whether he could believe his senses. Leaning 
over her, his face close to hers, he murmured, 
as he kissed her again and again : — 

“Ah, my child, if you knew how unhappy 
I have been ! how despairing 1 how jeal- 
ous I ” 


CHIFFON'S MARRIAGE. 


243 


^“Jealous? there was no need of that.” 

And with a warm embrace she murmured 
tenderly, caressingly : — 

“ For I should be very much surprised if I 
should ever deceive you, dearest.” 


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